The Dove and the Raven
by BlackInkJinx
Summary: As long as there have been demons, Hunters existed to counter them. A balance of power separated the two, and since the beginning of time they fought to destroy one another. When one young Huntress ends up in the grasp of Sebastian, he means to end her. But at first touch, he discovers an awful truth - she is his soul mate. Bound to him for all eternity, whether he likes it or not.
1. In the Manor

**Chapter 1; In the Manor:**

 _Warning:_ Rated M for swearing, violence, sexual themes, and merely a hell of a handsome demon. You have been warned…

 _Disclaimer:_ I do not own 'Kuroshitsuji' the manga or anime series 'Black Butler', or any of their characters. I am only using them to fulfill my own disillusioned dreams and fan-girl wishes. I will be following the anime adaptions mostly, as I own them all and have them at ready for reference. So spoilers.

I wanted to take my own spin with all of this Black Butler. I love this fandom to pieces and wanted to add my own little bit to it. So, yeah, different kind of plot other than having the girl be an angel or from our time, with a bit of inspiration from Buffy the Vampire Slayer if you know the series. Hope it will be interesting for you all.

This story starts just after the Red Butler arc. Please enjoy!

* * *

Vivian paced the floor. The sweep of her long, sheer dress followed after her as she paced and turned the length of her room. _Her_ room. Such a strange thing to think. She had only lived in this house, this manor, all her life, and yet she never really thought of it as her own home. She had grown up in the dark towers of the castle in isolation, as had so many young women before her. Each had spent their days in this room, studying and training and pacing as she was now until they reached of age. And then…and then…

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Vivian froze. Her forget-me-not eyes watched the door in fear, but when the footsteps passed she breathed a sigh of relief. She had a few more moments to herself. Out of nervous habit, Vivian braided and unbraided her long hair, the same mouse brown as her mother's. Vivian had only known her mother through the portraits of her that hung in the halls. Cold and formal she was, with eyes of ice. To have been killed in childbirth after all the battles she faced in life must have been the worst of disgraces to her.

But now, those very battles, those enemies her mother slew and fought to purge from the world, they would be Vivian's. She would inherit them within the hour. Her heart raced with dread. She did not want this. She did not want her mother's life. But she had no choice. Vivian had the same blood, the same skills, and since the day of her tragic birth, she had been taught the same lessons. Now was the culmination of all that she had endured. If she was deemed worthy, she would survive to fight her way into the bowels of hell. If not, she would die this very night.

To Vivian it was not much of a choice. But it was one she would be forced to make tonight nonetheless.

A knock at her door. Vivian stilled as she saw the door open, and two masked men stepped inside.

"Lady Cartwright, it is time."

Vivian felt herself begin to shake, but nodded to the two gentlemen. She could not tell who they were under the masks, and did not care. They were all the same. The cowards who pledged loyalty to her family to profit from the sacrifices they made. Like leeches, they would enjoy the spoils of the war she was about to wage.

Without a word, Vivian followed the two men. The sheerness of her dress left all of her visible, but Vivian's modesty had been pushed aside by her terror. As she trailed after the gentlemen, she could hear the music begin. Drums, slow and chanting, were accompanied incantations of a hundred unseen people. Down, down, and further down into the manor that was not a home she was led. When they reached the vault, the light was limited to the few candelabras that had been brought below.

All along and around the room were men and women masked and cloaked. They had come to witness the Ceremony. Vivian paid them no mind, rather, her eyes were trained on her father. He stood in the middle of the space, within the concentric circles interwoven with ancient runes painted on the stone. Vivian could feel its glow of power even before she crossed its threshold. Abandoned by her escorts, Vivian faced her father with a cold familiarity. In her sixteen years of life, there had been no love garnered or lost between them. But now…Vivian almost wished he would at least look a _little_ reluctant to sacrifice his only child.

"Intra ovili pecus et genua." He instructed her, his voice low. Vivian, fearfully, did as she was bid. She stepped closer to her father, entering the inner circle, and knelt before him.

"Utinam dignuz inventus erit vobis…may you be found worthy." Father's voice echoed over the stone walls, prodding the shadows the candlelight cast to dance. In his hands he held a chalice filled with dark liquid. One might think it wine, but Vivian knew it to be blood…

"Tempus est quia nova venator suam. Cum singulas generationes cunctae posthac ad aeternum, donec non hostem…"

Vivian could feel the power father's voice invoked well up within her. The power of her mother, and every woman and man before her. The power of the Hunters. She tried to accept it with pride, but something in her heart trembled. It took all of her strength to accept the chalice from her father as he handed it to her.

"The blood of the Divine will enter you, and if you accept God and your mission, the power of a Hunter will be yours." Her father whispered now to Vivian. "You will dedicate your mind, your body, and your soul to the eradication of the unholy. Do you accept this burden?"

"I accept." Vivian managed to say without stammering.

"Then drink the blood…and may you be accepted by the Divine as their Hunter…"

Vivian brought the glass to her lips, hesitated a little, and then drank. The liquid, the blood, burned down her throat like fire. She had managed to swallow it all before the fire took over her own blood, scorching her thoroughly. A cluster of sparks grew in her chest, overwhelming Vivian. Her breath was lost, her lungs screamed for air, but Vivian was too busy screaming in pain to pay them any mind. Her body was wracked in agony, and she threw herself prone to the ground to clutch desperately at the hard stones beneath her.

The fire grew and grew, and in that moment Vivian felt pity for the devils of hell if this was what they faced for all eternity. Vivian whimpered as a darkness closed in around her, wondering if she might ever get the chance to wake up again. The last thing she saw before it consumed her was her hair turning as white as milk…

* * *

 ** _…Two years later…_**

In a mist covered forest not far from London, there resides a manor.

A serene place, with well-kept lands, gleaming windows and grey stone walls. A fine estate to be sure.

Unlike most things in this world, the inside of this place was much like the outside, matching in finery and elegance. But whereas there was evidence of life through birdsong and the soft glow of the rising sun on the outside, here there was only silence and stillness. Thick and oppressive to those who are used to the lightness of the joyously living, betraying the true nature of the estate and its history.

For a brief moment though, sound stirred as a bell toll cut dully through the air, chiming the morning's hour.

And suddenly in the foyer, there stood a butler clad in pitch black, ready to start the day.

Sebastian, tall and poised, made his way up the steps with a grace that people often labeled as inhuman. The irony was not lost on him, despite his master constantly accusing him of being tiresomely dull in regards to humor. Perhaps he was, but then, it was always the little things that amused Sebastian. Life after all was about the littlest of pleasures, for they were always the sweetest. A polished set of sliver, well-tailored tailcoat, a carefully prepared meal, a drop of blood, a stained soul, and a contract fulfilled…ah, yes. The little things were indeed the things worth relishing, and how better to enjoy that relish than to postpone them as far as hunger could stretch itself?

To be a demon was to be ruled by one's hunger. And when one was a demon, satisfaction for that hunger could only be found in the sweet pleasure of a soul traded for a contract. But Sebastian was not one to be guided alone by such a debase instinct in favor of cheap souls. He preferred the savor of patience, the long steeping of time. A soul dripping with despair, once having been so pure, was the only true feast. While many of his contracts had been short, even by human standards, the petty, insignificant favors that were asked of him were hardly entertaining. A slaughter here, a rise to power there, a night of ultimate pleasure…oh, how dull. Many demons were satisfied alone with these, but Sebastian grew to enjoy the delight of a challenge over his many centuries. To postpone the contracts consumption, ah, such sweet torture… after all, the hungrier one is, the more satisfying one's dinner shall be.

Torture. Yes. That was a fitting word to describe the service Sebastian endured for the sake of his contract with the young Lord Phantomhive. While an intriguing soul who acted with a wisdom far beyond his years, in essence he was still just a child and very much a spoiled brat. Every day was a vexation, especially of late. After the unfortunance of Madame Red's demise, things had been quiet. Even among the servants. While this normally would have delighted Sebastian, this left him with a rather bored and frustrated Ciel. It would seem without a case to work on, the young master felt stagnated and jaded. As such, he found ways to entertain himself, namely by pestering Sebastian with _all_ sorts of menial tasks.

Honestly, it was really quite tiresome. It is true a butler lives to serve, and Sebastian was nothing if one hell of a butler. But even he, a demon, could succumb to irritation at the very least. If only something would come their way. Otherwise Sebastian would have to endure tutoring the young master in yet another lesson in the waltz. And that was a trial neither of them wished to go through yet again–

A knocking rang out, lifting Sebastian away from the haze of his thoughts.

"Now who could that be?" Pondered the butler. Putting aside the silver he had been polishing, he went to the door.

* * *

"The Queen?" Spoke Ciel Phantomhive as he sat himself up in his bed, rubbing his eyes from the sleep Sebastian had woken him from. The demon responded by lowering the letter he had placed upon the silver tray he was carrying.

"Yes, and for it to be personally delivered this early, it must be of vital importance."

The young master nodded in agreement, though still looked quite irked for having been woken up so early. He could barely see the sun rising between the parted curtains of his window. Yes, for a letter to come this early, it must be of the utmost severity.

"Open it and read it to me." Commanded Ciel, too tired and bleary eyed to do so himself. The butler did as he was told, picking up the letter opener he had on the tray to swiftly break the seal.

"My dear boy, I am afraid I must call upon your services once more…" Began the butler as his master listened intently to his Queen's plea. By the time Sebastian was done reading, the Queen's reasons for urgency became apparent.

"Seven victims? And no leads?" Ciel wondered.

The demon smiled.

"It seems Scotland Yard is out of their depths once more."

"Yes, though it does not help us any that there are no clues left behind at the scenes of the crimes." Grumbled the young master as he started to get out of bed. He sipped the cup of jasmine tea his butler had poured for him, enjoying the warmth that traveled down his throat as he thought of his first move. In his mind it would be best to get this over with as soon as possible, to give the Queen assurance of the justice she so wished. The first step would be going over the scenes of the crime himself, which of course would mean traveling to London. Why was it always London?

"And neither does the fact that each victim has been torn apart, practically eviscerated. With their hearts missing..." Pondered the butler out loud to himself as Ciel reviewed the ghastly photographs taken of the crime scenes. Truly, a bloody sight. The work of someone clearly depraved. He had seen much of human tragedy and depravity, but he was gladdened by occasions like this in which they continued to surprise even him. Perhaps this was the very reprieve from boredom both he and his master had been wishing? This idle thought was confirmed when Ciel put aside the letter.

"Pack what is needed Sebastian. We will leave immediately."

The demon bowed with a hand to his chest.

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian smirked to himself. It seems the small, quiet reprieve was indeed at an end. It would be quite enjoyable to see where this little chore would take them. At his master's word, Sebastian prepared all that was needed. The journey to London would not be long, and not much would be needed for now. Who knew what they might find there though. Sebastian might be pressed to say he was eager to find out.

But then…why all of the sudden did the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' come to the demon's mind? He did not know…

* * *

Well, that is all for chapter one! It was sort of a prologue, as the chapters following this will be much longer. Please join Vivian next week as she comes face to face with a devilish butler...


	2. On the Streets of London

**Chapter 2; On the Streets of London:**

Hello, hello lovelies! Sorry that it took me so long to get this next chapter posted. Honestly, I got caught up in a few things, but I am super excited to be writing this story! I always wanted to write a story for Black Butler, and so I'm going to give it my all. With that said, the chapters will probably be about this long from now on, but I can't imagine any of you would be opposed to that. So, anyway, please enjoy this chapter my lovelies and tell me what you think! Next chapter will be up within a week (I swear on my Lucinda Porcelain tea set)!

* * *

Vivian's eyes flittered open, and for a horrible moment she could not recall where she was. Shadows were cast upon the wall, and for an instant she believed herself back in that vault. She could almost see the tell tale red eyes in the dark, laughing at her wretched fate as nails tore into her flesh...

Panicked, she sat up. She was underneath a quilted blanket, wearing nothing but her shift. Not comforted with this alone, Vivian reached for the candle she caught from the corner of her eye. Lighting it and placing it on a stand, she lifted it to banish the shadows. The room became a familiar one to her - her flat, her home - and Vivian breathed a sigh of relief that it had been nothing more than her imagination that made her think she was back within the vault. However, her panic took hold again as she noticed a spatter of blood over herself and the quilt.

"Oh damn!" She fretted as she shot out of her bed. Quickly she undressed fully, and stepping before the vanity mirror she had recently purchased, she examined herself for wounds. Thankfully she found none, and had to conclude the blood was not hers. Vivian calmed as she finally recalled the events that led her to look like this.

"Well, seems I made a bit of a mess last night..." She groaned to herself.

Really, Vivian should have known better. She had been careless, untidy. Just because the creature had taken her by surprise was no excuse for her lack of control.

Looking over towards her discarded gown from yesterday, she noticed a few rips and dark red stains. It seemed that the fight that had ensued was a bloody one, but seeing as how she was still here she must have been the winner. She glanced around to ensure all else was well, and seeing the hope chest at the end of her bed securely locked, she felt assured.

 _Besides, it is not like this is the first time I have awoken completely covered in blood. The fifth time...maybe. I really do lead a strange life..._

Going over to her wash basin beside her bed, Vivian poured some cold water from a pitcher. Lowering her face, she scrubbed as hard as she could, washing away the evidence. She checked herself in the mirror once more, delighted to see her pale, oval face finally clean. Under her blue eyes she noticed some dark lines, a sure sign she had not slept much at all. A little powder would not be amiss then. She scrubbed the rest of herself clean, the water in the basin tinted pink by the time she was done washing all of the blood off.

Vivian paused in her toilet to notice the sun starting to rise over the docks from the small window of her apartment. While not the most suitable place for a young woman to reside, the building was close to her place of work - a clerk's office for a shipping company. It was tedious work, but it paid well enough for Vivian to afford her own leaky lodgings and provisions. Of course, if she had stayed at her father's manor she would never have to know what it was like to wake up each morning to the smell of rotting fish or the pangs of hunger. But Vivian would not go back there for all of Heaven or Hell.

Within the hour she would need to be at the office, and so as hurriedly as she could Vivian began to dress. Her wardrobe was limited by way of choice, even more so now that one of them had been ruined in last night's scuffle. She slipped into a blue wool gown with a high collar trimmed with white lace and fitted sleeves. It was a few years out of fashion, but it was the best she could do on her limited funds. Its' color offset her blue eyes prettily though, making them look wider. Doe-eyed was the term she believed. She had always disliked how childish her features were, from her small nose to her short stature, making her look younger than she was. But then, she _was_ young, despite all she had gone through just to make it alive this far…

Vivian finished her toilet by fitting a small brimmed hat to the top of her head, her only fashionable piece that was with the times. It had a few blue feathers tucked into the side, arranged in the appearance of a strange flower. Before leaving, she grabbed her hand purse, jacket, and an apple for her meager breakfast. Before she could manage to escape out the door though, a small sound came from her windowsill.

"Ah, Georgette. I was wondering when you would be making your way back." Vivian chatted happily at the white Angora, opening the window for her.

The feline mewled happily in recognition as Vivian scratched the back of one of her ears. Even though she was now late to leave, Vivian made certain to pour what was left of the milk she had bought into a saucer for the only creature on this earth she could call a friend.

 _I might be tempted to call that pathetic if cats weren't superior creatures to most - if not all - humans._

"Now I want you to remain inside today. And if I see you sneaking out to see black tomcat again, I shall become cross." Vivian warned playfully. Georgette ignored her as she continued lapping up her breakfast. With a shake of her head, Vivian unlocked her flat's door, and promptly left.

Her flat was a small, one room shanty within a poor, East End tenant building right alongside the docks. It acted as a half-way house for women wishing to get back on their feet after times spent in poor houses or in the streets. It allowed her to have a kind of anonymity, blending into the multitudes of so called 'way-ward' women who worked the piers.

Although barely dawn, there were already crowds of sailors and merchant men packing the docks tightly. Vivian walked quickly, avoiding fast wagons loaded with goods and seamen who were wishing for a bit of warmth after so long a time on a ship. She simply ate her apple, and ignored the whistles and stares her appearance caused. None of the men had any discerning eye for beauty – as a woman with a full set of teeth would do for most of them – but Vivian had an oddity to her appearance that set her apart from most.

Her hair was white.

Not ashen, not blonde.

White, like milk or snow.

When younger she had loved to wear her hair long when it was chocolate brown, growing it until it was past her hips. But two years ago, ever since her fateful sixteenth birthday, she cut it short. Now the wavy locks only reached a little past her jaw, framing her face like a halo. Over the years she had grown to almost like the shade, but it was still a terrible reminder of who and _what_ she was.

A symbol of purity, a tool for the divine.

A woman who faced nightmares most could only dream of...creatures that lurked in the shadows everywhere, including the hearts of men...

 _What a cheery way to start the morning,_ Vivan huffed to herself.

 _Oh well, you know what they say about pessimists. They're either always right or pleasantly surprised..._

Vivian continued to rush until she reached her place of employment.

The clerk's office for Morgan & Son's Shipping Co. was in a small, miserable looking building that stood on the shakiest pier in the entire East End. It was somewhat successful despite appearances, and to work at the neat desks inside was viewed as a cozy employment for many. Already a line of suited men and women hustled into the main doors, ready for another day filled with exports, imports, and a sickening amount of filing.

At the sight of Vivian, a few of her fellow typists smiled and wished her a good morning, which Vivian cheerfully returned.

But as soon as she crossed the threshold of the building, Vivian's happy mood was ruined as she felt something amiss. An uneasiness took hold of her, a sickening tempo quickly taking control of her heart until it raced madly. It almost deafened her, pounding in her ears painfully. One might call it nerves, but she knew it to be something far worse.

 _Here? What business would one of those creatures have here?_

Without hesitation, she wove in and out of the desks that crowded everywhere, eyes scanning for signs of trouble. She was definitely going to be late now, but she wanted to find the source of her distress.

Perhaps the creature she had slaughtered last night had a companion, and was now looking for revenge? It was not like those creatures to have any kind of loyalty to one another though, so perhaps it was just coincidence that one was searching for prey here. Vivian was not one to take chance lightly however, and so remained wary even when she reached the top floor where she worked.

Still keeping a wary eye out, Vivian hung up her hat and coat and was about to sit down at her own desk, when the door to the head office slammed open.

"Miss Carter!"

Vivian winched.

 _Oh, no. It's too early for me to be in trouble already, isn't it?_

Vivian turned to face Mr. Morgan of Morgan & Son's; a large, sloppy man with a nose bruised red from many years of being soaked in gin. Straightening herself, she faced her employer.

"Yes, Mr. Morgan?" Vivian said with all the patience she could muster.

She had worked as Mr. Morgan's private secretary and typist since she had found herself in need of employment a year and a half ago. Mr. Morgan did not mind that she had no previous experience, as she proved to be a fast learner and happy to work for him so cheaply. However, he did mind if she wasted a precious second on anything other than her work. Including taking time to visit the water closet.

"You are one minute late." Mr. Morgan grumbled. With a glance to the grandfather clock that stood behind her desk, Vivian saw the minute hand nudged ever so past the half eight mark. Inwardly she groaned.

"Yes, I do apologize Mr. Morgan. I had…an uneasy night." She explained as courteously as she could manage. Mr. Morgan's breath already had the faint whiff of spirits on it, and Vivian knew she was going to be in for a rather tedious day.

"No excuses." He barked, "Just get to making the tea already. Five cups. We have some guests."

Vivian tilted her head curiously.

"Guests?"

Mr. Morgan gestured to open door that led into his office.

"A couple of constables and some Earl with his butler."

Vivian peered around her employer, seeing two men standing and, surprisingly, a child seated in a chair in the office. No more than twelve or thirteen, the young boy was dressed far more finely then the men in a suit of blue with a matching cloak. He held a cane in his lap while he rested his chin in his hand, looking for all the world bored to death. Despite his youth - and the disconcerting black eye patch he wore - Vivian assumed from his easy manner and fine clothes that he must be the Earl. As intriguing as his presence was, Vivian's attention was mostly caught by the men. One wore impressive sideburns, a long brown coat and matching top hat while the other sported a simple bowler hat which hid his auburn hair.

"Constables, really? Whatever for?" She asked, her voice sounding a touch nervous. Mr. Morgan, always one for gossip, leaned in to whisper to Vivian.

"The Butcher killed another man last night."

Vivian could not help but widen her eyes in shock. She had never been good at schooling her emotions, but thankfully her honest reaction was not all that inappropriate to the situation.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed. Mr. Morgan nodded gravely.

"Yes, it makes about eight now."

 _Seventeen actually, but who's counting?_ Vivian thought to herself.

The Butcher was such a blasé name the journalists had given to the grisly work that had been going on in the East End for a few months now. In reality, the so called 'Butcher' had been at work much longer, but only after a pattern had been established did the murders gather any attention. Killings in the East End were no rare thing, but murders in which men had been slit navel to nose with their hearts missing...well, it tended to arouse suspicion.

Of course, for the longest time members of the law simply thought them muggings gone wrong or the Ripper returned, but now they knew better. This didn't help them any though, as the Butcher was far too careful to leave clues, or even bodies for the most part, for them to find.

 _Until today it would seem..._

"But what does the Butcher have to do with the company?" Vivian asked as innocently as she could manage.

"Just make the tea. And be quick about it!" Mr. Morgan huffed, leaving her to rejoin the gentlemen in his office.

Vivian's mind whirled. Yes, it was true last night's little encounter hadn't gone as smoothly as they usually did. But did she really leave behind anything that might lead them to Morgan & Son's? She racked her memories, and couldn't for the life of her think what it could have been. As calmly as she could, she fetched the kettle they had on the stove that heated their corner of the building before setting a tray with five cups.

 _Five? Oh, yes, the butler. Is he the Earl's caretaker, seeing as how he's so young?_

Vivian had bigger things to worry about. Trying her best to appear calm and collected - the opposite of what raged inside her - she entered Mr. Morgan's office.

Mr. Morgan was seated behind his desk, facing the Earl and the constables. A little ways from the Earl was another man, the butler no doubt, but Vivian paid him little attention as the thrumming in her heart from before became a thousand times worse. It wasn't like her to get nervous, even under pressure, but she did her best to keep an even expression as all eyes turned on her.

"Ah, here's Miss Carter with the tea. Now, would you mind telling my Earl Phantomhive, what this is all about?" Asked Mr. Morgan. The Earl Phantomhive smirked at the man's impatience, clearly in no hurry.

"Certainly, Mr. Morgan. As we have told you, the Butcher has killed once more in the East End last night. However with this murder a few things of interest have been brought to light."

Vivian listened intently to the Earl. His name, Phantomhive, was a name that was familiar to her. Her father had met the previous Earl few times on business ventures, though what he or his son were like Vivian hadn't any idea.

 _Don't the Phantomhives run a toy company now? Whatever is the Earl doing here talking about the Butcher for?_

Vivian placed the tea tray on a table cluttered with papers as she set herself to serving the men. She poured the tea for her employer first, not quite sure how to approach the Earl just yet. When it came to the bowler hat constable, Vivian risked a smile.

"Tea, sir?"

"Thank you miss." The young man smiled back, "Uh, do you have any sugar?"

"Abberline, focus." Hissed the other man, the one with the sideburns, severely. Abberline immediately became flustered.

"Y-yes, Lord Randall!" He answered as he set the cup aside, giving Vivian an apologetic glance. Vivian went back to the tray, working slowly as she continued to listen to the Earl.

"The latest victim had been killed only a few streets over from this place of residence. Poor fellow met a rather _grisly_ end, like all the others, but he seemed to have put up something of a fight."

Vivian paused. That was right, he did fight back, a lot faster than the others she had dealt with. The creature had lunged for her, and at the last moment Vivian ended him. But not before he had tattered her favorite dress in an effort to slash her throat. Perhaps something of hers had fallen at the scene of the crime?

Vivian began to bite her lip in worry, when a gentleman approached her from the side, surprising her.

"I will serve the Earl, Miss Carter." Whispered a man Vivian recognized to be the butler.

"O-oh, of course." She smiled politely.

At his close presence, Vivian's heart fairly leapt out of her chest it was racing so fast. She had ignored him before, but standing next to her it was suddenly hard for Vivian to look at anything else but him. He was rather tall, dressed in black trousers, a six-button double-breasted tailcoat, and a gray vest of the highest quality. His hands, long and slender, were covered with white gloves, adding to his finery. More arresting however was his face; handsomely angled with long features that were hidden by a few black locks arranged in an almost careless way. Vivian was not one to be captivated with a person by appearance alone, but as the butler moved her aside to fix tea for his master she found she could not look away from him, let alone breathe.

 _Get a hold of yourself girl before you give yourself a heart attack!_

Vivian struggled in vain, and her heart beat all the more wildly. Sensing her distress, the butler glanced at her inquisitively. It was then, when their eyes briefly met, that Vivian knew why she was so shaken. She moved away from him quickly, as if his presence burned her. The butler arched a curious brow at her as she her blue eyes widened in absolute terror.

 _Oh my God! He's...he's one of them!_

A demon. He was a demon.

It was hard for humans to tell who was of their kind and who was not from appearance alone. Demons often had a talent of hiding themselves amongst mortals, their appearances so deceiving. Some were tall and fair, some could look like children. But if you were clever, if you studied to separate monsters from men, you could single them out. There were hints, little clues. Their unearthly beauty, their strange grace and speed, and of course their eyes.

Crimson eyes like blood and fire.

Vivian had dealt with many demons over the course of the past two years. She had struggled to learn the ways in how to rid the earth of them. Her abilities as a Huntress made it so no demon could trick her with their appearance, as her heart would always know when one was near and would tremble as warning. The strength she had garnered from the Divine made it so she could stand against them. She thought she had enough strength and skill to deal with whatever came her way.

But she was wrong. The panic in her heart's rhythm told her she was.

He was more powerful than _anything_ she had ever come across.

Vivian could feel it, like a poison in the air slowly choking her. No wonder her heart hammered the moment she entered the building, sensing his presence before her mind had a chance to comprehend. Power and wickedness rolled off of him, overwhelming all of Vivian's senses. She had to step back further away in order to allow her lungs to work again, and forced herself to think.

Was he here for her? Did he come to kill her?

No. Obviously he had not discovered what she was yet. If he had, she doubt anyone in this room, let alone this building, would be alive right now.

So then was he merely hunting? Small grounds for one such as powerful as him. But as she watched as the demon left her side to present the tea cup to the small Earl, Vivian realized he was in a contract with the boy.

 _Of course, that is why he hides his eye behind a patch. That is where his symbol of contract hides. Poor boy. Did he know what he was getting into? Well, at the very least it means the demon is on a short leash right now…_

Vivian considered her next step. Obviously a confrontation between them now would not be the brightest idea. Her sacred weapon was away at home, locked in her hope chest. Besides, even with all her experience Vivian did not know if she was strong enough to battle a demon like him yet. Her only choice was to pretend all was well and retreat as soon as she could.

"That's heartbreaking and all that, but what does that have to do with my business?" Mr. Morgan grumbled, bringing Vivian back to his and the Earl's conversation.

"We seemed to have located a piece of property that may belong to one of your employees at the scene of the crime. A key with Morgan & Son's symbol on it."

Vivian paled.

 _Oh, God. I knew it. It's all over. Wait, no, don't panic. Yet._

"Impossible." Huffed Mr. Morgan, "There are only two keys issued like that, and they are for opening the secure filing room. Only I and Miss Carter have them."

"Really?" The young Earl was smirking again, like he had watched a pawn move on its own. "And would you mind producing them?"

Mr. Morgan looked insulted to be doubted by a child, but he reached into his suit pocket just the same. The key, heavy and with a ribbon tied at one end, clattered on his desk.

"And Miss Carter?" The Earl asked as he turned in his chair to face her. Vivian did not like how easily a child had her rattled, but she could do nothing to stop the alarmed emotion on her face. Pretending to search her pockets, she smiled sheepishly when she produced nothing.

"I…I must have left it in my desk." Vivian turned, and leaving the office went towards her desk posted nearby. She would pretend to look for it and buy herself a little more time to think of an explanation for its absence. This desperate plan was ruined however when the demon and constables followed after her.

"Allow me." Smiled the demon, stepping up behind Vivian's desk before she had the chance to. With measured movements he began to open the desk's drawers and rifle about their contents.

"My, my. What meticulous order." He said with praise at the neatly filed papers before running a finger over the letters of Vivian's typewriter, "Why, not even a speck of dust or grease! I admire such attention to detail."

"Thank you sir." Vivian forced herself to smile in order to hide the scowl that was desperate to show itself.

 _Damn him. The demon's taunting me. I know he is._

"But it seems there is no key to be found. I find it rather odd a woman as seemingly organized as yourself could lose something so important." The demon pondered after he had searched every inch of Vivian's desk. A ruthless smile then twisted his lips as he reached into his breast pocket, "Unless, of course, this is it?"

He produced a key exactly like Mr. Morgan's, and Vivian felt sick. Worse, when she noticed it had dried blood plastered to it.

There was nothing she could do. She had to act now or never. A plan quickly formed itself in her mind, and she did not hesitate to execute it.

"M-Miss Carter!" Abberline exclaimed when Vivian fell back into his arms. With all the skill she could muster, Vivian clung to the man who caught her as if he was her last life line.

"I…I feel faint…" She said, practically simpering. Vivian hated to play up her frailty as a woman to her advantage, but she was desperate. All except the demon seemed panicked by her sudden sickness. For her part it wasn't all that difficult to fake - for the demon's presence was truly having an ill effect on her - and good thing too for she was a horrible actress.

"She's shaking like a leaf!" Observed Lord Randall.

Vivian was, and with force she began to summon tears and blubber pathetically.

"Sirs! Please! Don't let him find me!"

"What are you saying, Miss Carter?" Asked Abberline, but her sudden state had drawn the attention of the employees of Morgan & Son's, much to her employer's concern.

"Quick! Into the office before she causes a scene!"

The men ushered her quickly back into the head office, allowing her to sit in a chair next to the Earl who had not followed them. He looked her over curiously, sharing a look with the demon, but said nothing as the other men began to hover over Vivian.

"Miss Carter, please, calm yourself!" Worried Abberline, the most visibly distressed. Vivian pretended to gather herself, drying her false tears with a handkerchief Mr. Morgan handed to her. She dapped her cheeks lightly, eyeing each one of them. She was pleased to see distress on their faces - all but the Earl and demon.

 _They're not falling for the damsel in distress act. Better give my story an inch of truth..._

"Tell us everything." Ordered Lord Randall once it seemed Vivian had recovered from her faint. She took in a fortifying breath, and began.

"I had finished closing the office with Mr. Morgan, when I went over to Mrs. Tinley's for a meat pie as a late supper. After that, I had started to walk back home."

This was true. It was her usual customer after being dismissed from work for the day to get her meals at one of the local taverns nearby. From beside her, Abberline shook his head.

"Alone in the dark? Miss, what were you thinking?"

"I have no one at home sir, just myself. A lady has to make do." Vivian clarified, pushing aside her pride as she pouted her lip pathetically. "I was nearly home when…oh, God, I heard the most awful screaming!"

This was...somewhat true. There was screaming. But she was the cause of it.

"Like a fool, I ran towards it. I turned a corner and there on the ground was...was a man covered in blood!" Vivian widened her pale blue eyes as she continued, forcing a tremble into her voice, "He threw himself at me, tearing at my dress, begging me to help him! I was so frightened I pushed him away and we both fell. I was about to call for help, when another man appeared."

Now, this was entirely false.

Vivian had been tracking last night's victim for little more than a week. On her way home she felt his presence more clearly than before, and so stopped by for her weapon before going back out for a hunt. She found him easily enough, fat and slow from a soul he had recently consumed. Or so she assumed. He had been fast, and tore her dress, yes, but she dealt with him sure enough. However, since she did not like the idea of being locked away for the crimes of the 'Butcher', she needed to create a third part to take the blame.

"Horrible he was! With eyes like fire! He came towards me, and I know he would have killed me if I stayed." With this, Vivian caught the Earl glancing towards his butler again. The two shared another secret look, but this time Vivian felt assured by it.

 _Little truths make the lie, so they say. I might be a more skilled actress than I thought._

"Sirs, I ran. I ran all the way home and locked the door. Until that gentleman there produced the key, I pretended as if it did not happen. I...I did not want to remember what had happened..." With that, Vivian had finished her little story, and prayed to the Divine that the demon and his master bought it. She risked meeting the Earl's eyes when he glanced back to her. His eyes were blue, but richer in hue than her's. Like a sea after a storm.

"People often deny the truth when it is too horrible to face." He told her. His was voice comforting but his lips still tied up in a smirk, as if he was thinking of a joke.

"I am deeply sorry to have lied to you gentlemen." Vivian cast her eyes meekly down to her folded hands, "I was afraid of the man finding me…"

The Earl nodded, and Vivian began to hope that she just might get out of this unscathed.

 _I'll have to be more careful. I don't have father any more to clean up after my messes._

"Thank you, Miss Carter, for sharing this information. If you will describe the man in further detail to Lord Randall, you will be dismissed for the day. It is obvious this event has distressed you." Again, the Earl's voice was soft, but there was no real feeling behind it. Vivian did not wonder. It took a dark and desperate soul to make a contract with a demon, especially at such a young age. Just what horrors drove him to do such a thing?

"Abberline. You will conduct the lady home once she has given a description of the assailant." The Earl directed to the auburn haired man, and Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. From behind her, Lord Randall protested.

"Wait! You cannot order my men around–!"

"Gentlemen, if you do not mind, I will review the crime scene again with this information in mind." The young lord cut off the older gentleman without so much as a care. Standing, the boy made his way to the closed door of the office, signaling for his butler that they were to leave.

"Spoiled brat." Vivian could hear Lord Randall murmur. Vivian watched the pair as the demon opened the door for his master. As they were about to leave, she felt the need to speak.

"Thank you, Earl Phantomhive." She called out after him. The Earl paused, and glancing back at her, smiled and politely tilted his head to her. The demon beside him arched a brow, but without further ado, the two left her sights. Lord Randall and Abberline continued to question her for some time, but Vivian's mind was on the slow retreat of the demon's aura as he and his master drew farther and farther away.

 _Just my luck that my crime is being investigated by an Earl with a demon at his side...the Divine is really testing me._

* * *

"What did you make of the crime scene, Sebastian?"

Sebastian turned from the window of the cab he shared with his master, having occupied himself with the passing view as peculiar thoughts occupied his mind. He and his master had said little to one another when they reviewed the crime scene, each lost in their own impressions. Sebastian in particular was rather puzzled at the turn of events of this morning, and it was now starting to irk him. There were few things that managed to surprise him after so many centuries, and yet this morning had presented him and his master a case that the demon was now finding to be rather... _personal._

"For the victim to have been slain in such a bloody way, rib cage ripped open, it would take a being of great strength. As for weapon, I would say a perhaps an ax or sword." Sebastian shared the most obvious of his observations, and to this Ciel nodded in agreement.

"Yes. This Butcher is rather a grisly man. If he even is a man..."

The young boy was frowning, the fingers of one hand idly twisting the Phantomhive family ring on the other; a sure sign the young master was deep in his thoughts.

Sebastian arched an amused brow.

"You do not think our Butcher to be human?" He asked with a smirk. As usual, the young master was almost too clever for his own good.

"The secretary. She said the man who attacked the victim had red eyes. Not a very common feature." Here Ciel paused, carefully forming a question as he locked eyes with Sebastian. "Do you think it might have been another shinigami gone rogue?"

Sebastian frowned in distaste.

"Like Sutcliff? Perhaps. They have green eyes if I recall however."

"And demons have red eyes, yes?" Ciel suddenly smirked. Sebastian did not answer beyond the chuckle that could not be helped.

So, he and his master were thinking along the same track.

It was true, most demons had red eyes, although some could have gold, black, or even violet shaded eyes. While it was not enough to alert others to their inhumanity, their eyes had been known to be off putting to most mortal creatures. It perhaps explained why the secretary became nervous around him when she met his eyes. If she had been attacked by a demon it would make her wary of anyone of a similar visage - namely those of red eyes.

That being said, Sebastian could not yet name why the young woman's reaction to his presence arrested his attention. It was as if she was revolted by him. Shaken to her core in nameless horror. Sebastian supposed this only further supported her story - this and the traces of demon blood he smelled still clinging to her skin - and yet, the demon could not help but wonder at his own strange reaction to her...

With a sigh, Ciel leaned back against the seat of the cab, losing his smirk.

"I have never asked you of your kind before. I never cared to know what you were, rather, what you could do for me." He muttered, though he knew the demon heard him well enough. Ciel never really bothered to think if Sebastian was the only of his kind. Even after learning of shinigami, Ciel's interest in the supernatural was passive. Only what was useful could hold his interest. But this recent case now presented him a curious predicament, one that he found himself becoming more intrigued by.

Sebastian was not the only demon that walked this earth…

Sebastian himself did not react besides watching his young master, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Do you suspect one of your own to have done this? That a demon is the Butcher?" Ciel finally asked, pointedly meeting Sebastian's eyes.

"It is likely that a demon has claimed the East End as his territory. Most prefer quantity over quality when it comes to their souls."

Ciel chuckled at this. He knew the worth of his own soul, and Sebastian's inclination for finer meals. So, Sebastian was an exception rather than the rule when it came to demon taste.

"Is that why the victims had their hearts removed?"

The demon surprised Ciel by shaking his head.

"No. To consume a soul does not require such bloody extraction."

"A sloppy demon then?" Ciel asked pointedly.

Sebastian's expression betrayed nothing.

"Perhaps."

"Or..." The young master hesitated as he considered something. The demon smiled at his struggle.

"You have but to ask the right questions my lord. You know I cannot lie to you."

His young master had learned much in their time together. As a butler, Sebastian would serve him faithfully. As a contracted demon, he could never lie or cheat his master. Not that Sebastian had any desire to do so, but it amused him to make Ciel reflect on which questions would drag out honest answers from the demon. And so, as contracted, Sebastian answered with only the truth when Ciel finally formulated the question that burned in his mind.

"Sebastian. The victim we saw, was it human?"

"No. It was a demon as well."

Ciel could not hide his surprise. A demon? That mangled body lying in the street had been a demon? Ciel did not think it possible - there was little difference between that body and the hundreds of others he had seen in his short life. Even the blood had been the same color. Red.

"Why would a demon kill another demon?" Ciel asked once he had schooled his expression.

"Again, perhaps it is because another has claimed the East End for his own and is expanding his territory, and is now in the process of getting rid of all its competition." Sebastian answered nonchalantly, undisturbed by the murder of his own kin.

Demons were predators by nature. Like most, they held to the tradition of claiming territories, guarding the rights to the souls within its boundaries as their prey and their prey alone. Sebastian himself once troubled with such trifles in his early centuries, and he had defended it viciously. That said, it was rare these days for a demon to kill another over territory since they had begun to form contracts with their prey. Only the most old fashioned of demons even bothered with territory any more, as many like Sebastian preferred to feast on one delicious soul rather a large number of inferior ones.

So then, it was quite a surprise for Sebastian to come across the corpse of a demon this morning. Even among those who bothered with territory it was now rare for a demon to kill another over it. Normally the more powerful of the two would dispel the other with a show of simple brute force. While it was true that demons only held to their aesthetics, and those were only in regard to when they took on masters, when it came to dealing with one another they often acted with uncharacteristic civility. After all...there were only so few of them these days. Perhaps then this 'Butcher' was a newly created demon, and thus did not know how to act except with rashness and violence.

It was one explanation... but Sebastian did not think it so simple.

While a newly born and poorly taught demon claiming territory would be the simplest, and most desirable, answer to this predicament, Sebastian's instincts knew better. If there was another demon nearby, one powerful enough to do away with others of their kind so easily, Sebastian would have sensed him long ago. A newly born demon would not be able to hide his aura from an elder such as Sebastian. And even if by chance the demon had learned how to hide his presence from others, the air about the East End felt strangely undisturbed for one so sinful to be laying claim to it.

In fact, Sebastian might be pressed to say it was opposite - as if an essence of purity had taken root in this dismal part of the world. No doubt this had something to do with the demon slayings. It was almost as if the area was being exorcised of them. This, coupled with the strange fact that the victims were missing their hearts, might mean that a new born demon was not behind these killings, but rather...

Sebastian's fist at his side clenched as a forbidden thought presented itself.

 _It is almost as if...no. It is impossible. Their kind had died out long ago..._

"Are there many demons lurking about London then?" Ciel went on, dragging the demon from his thoughts.

Sebastian could not help but smirk.

"Oh, you would be surprised, my lord."

"Then all of the previous victims could be demons." Ciel wondered out loud, finally reaching the same conclusion Sebastian had already deduced. He would not share what he had been reflecting on though - not unless asked - as the brat need not know the concerns of a demon.

Still, his master would want to solve this case for his Queen like any other. She had asked for the Butcher to be stopped, and stop him the Queen's Guard Dog would. For Sebastian this suited him fine. He himself was rather curious as to see who was behind these so called 'murders'. If it was a new born demon causing trouble, then he would aid his master without hesitation to stop one of his own kind. Trivialities such as territory disputes did not concern him, and he if ordered by his contracted master he would move Hell itself. And if it was not another demon responsible...well, it mattered little to him. He would not fail in catching the Butcher.

After all, the work only whetted his appetite for the anticipated feast. Sebastian would roam where he willed and would do what he must, and no demon, new born or otherwise, would dare to interfere with another's contract to a master. And if the Butcher was not a demon, well, Sebastian would be delighted in being proved wrong. It was a rare experience these days.

"Since they had all been killed in the same way, it is likely." Sebastian finally answered.

Ciel smiled then, giving Sebastian an amused look.

"So...your kind can die?"

The demon did not like the humor in the child's voice. But having been asked a question, the demon had no choice but to answer.

"Yes. There are weapons that can do such. Holy relics from ancient days. But even with them, it would still take a very powerful creature do slay a demon."

The young master let all this information sink in. He ignored what did not matter and instead tried to focus on what was relevant to the case. A weapon like a sword or axe was responsible for these murders. Not only that, but it a weapon powerful enough to kill demons, and therefore must be wielded by a creature just as powerful...

"The Butcher. A demon who is slaying demons." Ciel chuckled in bitter thought, "This case has taken a surprising turn. But seeing as how all the other killings had been committed without so much as a shred of evidence, isn't rather sloppy of him to leave behind a witness all of the sudden?"

Knowing what his master implied, Sebastian nodded.

"Yes. Rather lucky on Miss Carter's part to have escaped…" The demon mused.

Lucky was not the word for it. No demon, young or not, had any patience for mistakes. That the secretary was able to live through her encounter of seeing two demons fight was curious to say the least. Though, perhaps this newborn demon was more careless than Sebastian gave him credit for. After all, he did leave behind quite a mess of bodies. Perhaps it was just dumb luck this demon had been able to kill without drawing any attention onto himself until now. Certainly Scotland Yard was doing its part to turn a blind eye on the murders until they grew to catch the Queen's attention.

Still, that did not explain Miss Carter. Sebastian would be the first to admit that there was something about her that struck as odd. To be sure, she was human enough, of that he was certain of upon first seeing her. Plain and unassuming. And yet…

Her hair. It was like milk. Like snow. Unstained and white.

Such a color was reserved for the elder of humans and was unnatural in one as young as she appeared. But it seemed to be the secretary's natural color, as her eyebrows matched in hue. He supposed she was simply a rarity then, one even he had yet to see in humanity. It was charming, in a way, he supposed. But even more so was the way she trembled when she met his eyes for the first time.

When she had looked upon him fully, a scent had taken to the air. A sickly sweet scent, such as the decay of a flower. It was her fear, hiding behind the foulness that was the blood of the demon she had encountered. This, coupled with how delightfully wide her indigo blue eyes grew – painting a delightful picture of horror – intrigued the demon. This in itself was significant.

Humans were not worthy of any notice from him - outside of his master, for only he mattered in the end to the demon. Exceptions could also be placed on the Phantomhive staff, if only for their constant presence as well as ability to cause trouble for Sebastian. On the whole they were mere inconveniences to navigate around until they proved worthwhile for him and his young master on their cases.

Yet this _girl_ and her reaction to him had riled in him such a curiosity, that Sebastian could not help but idly wonder at how softly her neck would yield if he were to grasp it tightly. The idea of tearing her apart delighted a part of Sebastian he had not entertained since his wilder days when he messily sampled any dish available. Her trembling fear of him certainly reminded him of his careless youth - as the dying screech of a mouse might make a cat smile. Her fear was near tangible to his tongue, even after she composed herself and revealed the 'truth' of her encounter - of which he doubted most if not all of it - and if he concentrated Sebastian could still taste it.

The flavor was… _exciting_ , a sure hint to the quality of her pure soul that was as white as her hair. Even Sebastian, contracted as he was to a master, found himself wondering at the possibilities of her soul's caliber. Perhaps this was why the newborn demon had spared her…or perhaps…

"I have a feeling if the Butcher wanted her dead, she would be. And the only physical evidence left behind led to her. I say she is more involved than her well put together story implies."

Sebastian once more was pulled from his thoughts by the musings of his master. And, once more, he and the young lord were not that far apart in their conclusions. Still, Sebastian saw no reason to make it easy for the young master by telling him what he guessed. At any rate, it was amusing to see what he would do as his next move.

"You did not believe her then?" He pressed.

The boy shrugged, turning from the demon to stare out the carriage window, "I'm not sure. She did seem frightened of something, but I don't think it was our Butcher. Not entirely any way. Perhaps the Butcher is contracted to her, like you are to me…"

This possibility was one of a few Sebastian had already deliberated, but it surprised him that his master was already considering such. It certainly would explain most of the circumstances of the crimes before them. Most, but not all. Such as the missing hearts and lack of demonic presence in the area…but Sebastian supposed all the answers would come with time. And he looked readily forward to its conclusion. It would most assuredly be amusing at the very least.

"Right now, Miss Carter is our only link to the killer. It would be in our best interest to learn what we can of her and to keep an eye on her." Ciel continued, and Sebastian nodded in agreement. Placing his heart to his chest, he understood the unspoken order.

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian thought that to be all for this discussion, at least until he could provide results, but the young master again surprised him.

"I fear though, such a passive tactic will take far too long to produce results, if ever. And I wish to return to Phantomhive Manor sooner than later."

"What do you suggest then?"

Here, Ciel turned back to face his demon. The smirk he wore was positively mischievous.

"The Butcher is hunting other demons. I say we draw him out with some bait."

Slightly, ever so slightly that human eyes would be unable to detect it, Sebastian's eyebrow twitched in irritation.

 _Spoiled brat._


	3. Asleep in the Flat

**Chapter 3; Asleep in the Flat:**

Thank you all for your reviews, favs, and follows! Pretty good response considering that it was only the second chapter for this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! It's a little slow maybe, but don't worry, it's all build up for the action that's going to take place in the next chapter!

* * *

"Miss Carter! Where are those accounts for the H.M.S. Herald's latest consignment!?" Screamed Mr. Morgan from the door of his private office. Vivian, trapped behind her desk piled high with the reports for yesterday's shipments, swallowed the groan that built up inside her.

"They're on your desk already Mr. Morgan." She answered blandly. Not turning from the copy she was typing, she heard Mr. Morgan's shuffled footsteps retreat into his office, pause, and then return.

"So they are." He huffed in acknowledgement before tossing her his filing room key, "Now go fetch me the ledgers for this week."

This time, Vivian had to suppress a glare.

 _I'd rather trot to Hell on a fast horse._

"Yes Mr. Morgan." She eventually conceded, standing up from her desk to start her march all the way to the basement where the filing room was - absurdly- placed.

"And make me some more tea while you're at it!" Mr. Morgan shouted at her retreating back. Vivian halted, her shoulders stiffening. She weighed the advantages and disadvantages of throwing the unreasonable man out of the window and into the Thames. After a brief debate, she sighed in defeat.

"...yes, Mr. Morgan."

 _By God, it is only two o'clock. Four more hours till we close. I cannot go on..._

Vivian was not herself. While working for Mr. Morgan was taxing, it was livable. He had always been a demanding and unfair employer, but he at least was consistent in that and never a day late in paying her due wages. But today, Vivian was not up to the task that was his standards.

She was sick. Sick, tired, and her soul was crying out for the last ounce of goodness left in the world that she could not find no matter how desperately she looked. For the past two days she had not properly slept or eaten, and the dark circles under her eye were visible even after several applications of powder.

The demon was to blame for this. Since he and his master, the young Earl, had come to Morgan's & Son's, Vivian had been on the edge of her nerves. The demonic presence of the butler pervaded the whole of London. His aura was much stronger now than when she first came across him, enough to fill the building, a tell-tale clue that he was a powerful demon. But now Vivian was aware of him at all times, as if he was a shadow clinging to her. It was as if he was advertising his whereabouts on purpose.

He was more than powerful, he was a force of power. Vivian's heart was on the verge of exhaustion from the erratic pace it had set itself to in response to the demon. If he did not leave London soon, she feared it would burst. The demon was with her even in the depths of sleep - the rare occasion she was able to - his red eyes joining the hundreds that haunted her each time she dreamed about the vault...

 _Damn him. Damn him to Hell. Wait...that's where he lives. Damn him to Heaven then._

To make matters worse, Vivian finally remembered why the previous Earl Phantomhive had marginal dealings with her father and his associates. The Phantomhives were a family dedicated to the Queen and eliminating all that threatened or worried the British Empire. The shadow of justice that operated beneath the law, and within the black belly of the criminal underworld.

The Queen's Guard Dog.

They handled what was beyond Scotland Yard's ability and comprehension, and were jury, judge, and executioner to those that troubled Queen and country. And he had come to London to find and deal with the Butcher no doubt.

What the Earl Phantomhive knew or suspected, Vivian could not determine. By now, they surely knew that all of the Butcher's victims were demons, and that was enough to worry Vivian. She had discovered where the young Earl's townhouse resided, and even risked taking a cab past it. It was no different from the hundreds of others the elite occupied, unassuming and innocent in appearance much like its owner.

How a child like the Earl came to contract his soul to a demon, Vivian knew she would be unable to fathom. From the gossip she was able to widdle out of Mr. Morgan - knowledgeable in all things scandalous - the Phamtomhives had suffered a fire two years ago, the Earl and his wife perishing. Their child was presumed dead too, but then returned with the mysterious butler at his side. His pain, his suffering, Vivian could rightly sympathize with. But to summon a demon because of it, and at so young an age...

It did not matter. For Vivian it changed nothing. The Queen's Guard Dog was armed with a powerful demon and was after the Butcher.

Namely her.

She had no choice but to lay low. The few clues that pointed to her she managed to explain in her interview with the Earl and during the several hours with the constables when she went down to the station the other day. Vivian went so far as to sit with a sketch artist to describe her supposed 'attacker'. Out of spite she described him in the likeness of the butler.

In all seriousness, Vivian knew there was a chance the demon and his master would suspect her. She would be a fool to think otherwise. If the worst came about, she could always contact her father. He and his associates would risk all to free her if it came to her arrest. They needed her after all.

However, since that would result in placing her back in her father's hands, Vivian did not want that. Not even as a last resort. She was determined to deal with this however she could. For the time being, she planned to lay low, and wait. Wait until the demon and his master left, and then she would hunt once more. She would grow stronger. She would become an equal to the demon by way of power. And she would destroy him. And then she would put into action her plans…

Still...it was a first for her. A demon of his caliber. Vivian believed that she was powerful enough to deal with any that came her way, and yet here was a demon making her cower like a child. No, not cower. How could she think herself a coward when she dealt with nightmares others could not imagine? She simply knew her limits. And when she had surpassed them, she would come for the black-hearted butler...

 _As it has been and as it shall, the Divine has tasked me with the burden of eliminating all wickedness from this Earth. And eliminate I shall. Right after I get last week's ledgers and make a cup of tea._

Vivian had fetched the heavy ledgers, and was now returning to the third floor where Mr. Morgan's office lay. Her heeled boots clicked smartly against the floor as she made her way to where the third floor tea kettle consistently simmered. She struggled between holding the heavy tomes and setting about making Mr. Morgan a cup.

"You poor dear. That beast is working you to the bone again, isn't he?"

Vivian twisted herself to see a woman approaching fifty, with a tidy hair bun and smooth skin, smiling at her. Vivian smiled back without having to force herself.

"Oh, Mrs. Hamish. N-no, I'm fine and so are my bones."

The older woman tsked and shook her head.

"You're working too hard. A young thing like you should be out dancing instead of rushing about here in a stuffy office."

Vivian's smile faltered. She ignored the part of her that wanted to agree with Mrs. Hamish, and instead laughed.

"I think I prefer a stuffy office. At least I'm not stepping on anyone's toes here."

"Miss Carter! The accounts!" Mr. Morgan's head peered around the door frame of his office to scream.

"Eh…spoke too soon." Vivian grimaced, hurriedly turning to pour the tea.

"You seem like a nice girl, Miss Carter. Too nice for Mr. Morgan." Mrs. Hamish looked left, then right, before leaning in towards Vivian, "If I were you, I would look for an occupation elsewhere."

"You are preaching to the converted." Vivian laughed, a little more heartily and genuinely. Mrs. Hamish was a sweet and wise woman, one of the first female typists to work at Morgan's & Son's who took care of the others that followed suit. She had trained Vivian when she first arrived, and praised her as a fast learner. Their interactions had been brief since then, but Vivian knew enough of the woman to like her.

"Finally." Huffed Mr. Morgan when Vivian returned, "I need you to type these documents. I can't read them."

He extended some papers towards her which she ignored as she set the ledgers down.

"Your reading glasses are on your head again, Mr. Morgan." She chided. Mr. Morgan's reddened nose twitched angrily.

"It's not that! They're in French!"

Vivian blinked, glancing down at the papers.

"…oh."

"Just hurry up and translate them!" Barked Mr. Morgan, hating to repeat himself. Vivian exhaled forcefully.

"Right away sir."

Taking the papers, Vivian retreated to her desk. Mr. Morgan already had her backlogging the shipments of last month, but apparently that wasn't enough for a day's work. Mrs. Hamish was right, Vivian should find better employment. She had always considered advertising herself in a paper for hire, as surely any prospect would be better than her current one. But then, Vivian did not plan on staying in England much longer.

She had plans...sort of. It all depended if she lived long enough to realize them.

For now, she needed to translate and type up these documents, or else Mr. Morgan might just bite her head off. She rolled in a fresh piece of paper into her typewriter, replaced the ink ribbon, and began.

French was not so difficult for her, as she had learned it young. It, besides piano and a few other languages, were the only parts of any formal education she received as a child. Of course, her education was not much different from other daughters of nobility, although she never really learned to dance or draw. These things were deemed unnecessary for her, since she would never be introduced into society. She felt it was no _great_ loss, she having better things to do than attend balls or parties, but it still was one.

Vivian was lost in her world of translation, when she heard the slow approach of footsteps. They halted right before her desk, and a voice cleared its throat.

"Pardon me, Miss Cater, I am here to–"

Without stopping in her typing, Vivian cut off the stranger.

"Mr. Morgan is not seeing anyone at the moment sir. If you would like to make an appointment with him, I can schedule you in for tomorrow at two o'clock." She said recited sternly. She hated being interrupted. Besides, she found it annoying when people walked in without making an appointment first. Mr. Morgan hated unexpected visits, and always blamed Vivian when someone made their way into his office without one.

The stranger did not say anything to this though, and Vivian was more than happy to ignore him until he made up his mind. It didn't matter how desperate he was to see Mr. Morgan, he was not getting past her without making an appointment first. However, instead of the usual attempt to plead or bribe her, the stranger surprised her by leaning in closer over her desk.

"I believe you meant to type that as 'il y a un déséquilibre dans les comptes' rather than 'il y a un déséquilibre dans les comtes'." He observed, peering down at her work on the typewriter. Vivian's spell of concentration broke as her eyes scanned the document, and sure enough, the stranger was right.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise, "How could I have missed that?"

Reaching over, Vivian pulled out the typed up paper, mourning that she would have to start all over again. She tiredly rubbed her temples, willing her headache to go away.

"Well, you are only human after all." The stranger said, his voice laced with humor

"Thank you sir for–" Vivian lauded as she finally glanced up, but the half-formed smile on her face froze. Meeting the stranger's eyes, she recognized the depths and hues of his eyes.

They were red.

As red as blood.

Vivian immediately rose from her chair, nearly falling over it as she backpedaled away from the desk. This inevitably led her to slam her back against the bookcases on the wall behind. The force of her crash jostled some books, and they rained down on her.

"Ah! Ow!" She hissed, clutching her head.

The stranger began to step around her desk to assist her, but Vivian jumped away from him.

"You?! What are you doing here?!" She accused in shock, catching the mild interest of a few clerks nearby.

It was the demon. The demon butler. He was right in front of her!

How could she have missed his approach? His demonic presence had been pervasive before, but now it was nigh to suffocating her! Her heart hammered against her chest as if it meant to fly from it!

The demon, seemingly amused by this whole incident, smiled a charming smile.

"Come now, Miss Carter. That is hardly a cordial welcome. As a representative of your employer, you should strive at all times to be pleasant."

Vivian narrowed her eyes. The demon had no right to lecture her. What was he even here for anyway? She glanced him over, his fine suit hidden beneath a black, double-breasted trench coat. Cradled under one arm was a large box, wrapped in paper and tied with string. Mr. Morgan had made no mention of meeting with the Earl again, so as to the demon's intentions, Vivian was hopelessly lost and ready to panic.

"Y-yes. Of course. Apologizes. You merely...surprised me." She stuttered as she nervously tucked her hair behind one ear. Her heart still raggedly thudded, and she realized now that she had simply become - _somewhat_ \- acclimatized to the demonic presence of the butler. Now that he was near, the effects of his aura was in full force upon her. It was like being taken out of the frying pan and into the fire.

 _Foolish. Foolish, foolish, foolish. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, idiot, fool, damn, bollocks, bollocks, damn!_

"Oh, my." Pouted the demon, "I certainly did not wish for that."

Vivian felt her brow twitch.

 _Yes you did. Damn this demon._

Taking in a fortifying breath, Vivian knelt to pick up the fallen books. By now, the clerks watching before had dispersed themselves, and she counted herself lucky Mr. Morgan did not hear the commotion. She was acutely aware of the demon peering down at her as she did so, and so smiled more brightly when she rose up to put the books away.

"Is there something I can assist you with Mr….?"

The demon rose a hand to his heart, and gave her a slight bow.

"Sebastian, if you please Miss Carter. Sebastian Michaelis."

"Sebastian…" Vivian pronounced slowly, tasting the syllables. She supposed she had crossed demons going by stranger names. "Well, as I have said, Mr. Morgan is not taking visitors at this moment. If there is something I can assist you with, I would be more than happy to."

"Oh? You would?" He smirked, his voice barely containing its mocking tone.

Her brow twitched again.

 _Damn him._

"That is very kind of you Miss Carter," Continued the demon, "but I am not here to see your employer. I have come for you."

Vivian's head tilted to the side curiously as she internally quelled her panic before it could show itself. Her expression was innocent while the rest of her was sweating under her high collar blouse and skirt.

"My young lord, the Earl Phantomhive, ordered me to return this to you." Before Vivian could react, the demon stepped close to her, and reached a hand out for hers. Gloved fingers brushed against the palm of her left hand, pressing something into it. She pulled back quickly, ready to throw the thing when she suddenly recognized the shape of it.

"Ah!" She exclaimed in surprise, "It's my key!"

"Yes." Nodded the demon, "The Lord Phantomhive deemed it no longer necessary to keep the item secured as evidence, as it has no true importance on the 'Butcher' case. He hopes that its absence has not been troublesome for you."

"N-no. I have managed."

"That is good to hear." He said with a pleased smile.

 _I wonder if his cheeks hurt from doing that all the time._

"My young lord also requested that you be given this. He understands how difficult this whole ordeal must have been for you, and so wishes that you accept this token of his appreciation and condolence."

Here, he presented to her the box he held.

"F-for me?" Vivian stuttered helplessly.

When she hesitated to take it from him, the demon laid the box down upon her desk in a nonplussed manner. He quickly unwrapped it for her, lifted the lid, and moved aside the packing paper.

Vivian's eyes widened.

"Oh!"

Folded inside was a dress. High collared and made of velvet, it was a dark lilac in hue with black silk band to cinch the waist. It was a simple day gown, one suitable to wear to work, and yet the material was finer than Vivian had become accustomed to. It practically shimmered under the gaslights of the office. In Vivian's surprise, her hand had reached out to graze the dress, but she stopped herself short.

"Its…its lovely." She admitted, bringing her hand back to her in order to clutch the key to her chest.

The demon's smile took on a sly angle.

"I am pleased you think so. My master had it ordered especially for you."

"I'm sorry." Vivian shook her head, "I cannot accept such an extravagant gift. I have done nothing to warrant such generosity."

If that demon had handled the dress, even with only his gloves, Vivian would not wear it for all of Heaven or Hell.

He took her rejection in stride.

"That may be so, but the Earl wished to express his thanks before he left, and it would be quite rude of you to refuse."

"Leaving?" She exclaimed before she could stop herself, "But what about–"

"The Butcher? Have no fear. My master is devoted to ending the terror of that criminal. But our investigation has come to a standstill for the moment, and so we will take our leave of the city while we pursue…other avenues of the inquiry." The demon shared, his expression becoming serious.

Vivian did not dare to hope what this might mean. If the demon and his master were leaving, then perhaps they did not suspect her after all. Had she actually managed to fool them into thinking her innocent? Vivian felt her heart slow down its maddening pace, and she very nearly sighed in relief then and there. But no, it was not over yet. The demon could be lying to her for all she knew.

"Oh?" She smiled pleasantly, "Then, I wish you and your master the best. And…and please give him my sincerest thanks for the dress."

The demon once more placed his hand on his heart, and bowed.

"But of course."

Vivian had hoped this was the end of her panic inducing meeting with the demon butler. But when Sebastian straightened himself, he took the chance to step even closer to the overwhelmingly unprepared Vivian. Barely a foot apart, the demon lowered himself till his lips were at the level of her ear.

"And, by the way, Miss Carter..." His voice, as rich as a blood colored wine, whispered over Vivian's neck. She could not repress the shudder that followed in its wake, "I do not wish to alarm you, but you have ink on your face."

 _...uh...what?_

Vivian, still in a state of shock, helplessly watched as the demon pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket.

"If I may be so bold…" Without so much as a by your leave, he raised the cloth to the side of her face. After dabbing a few times, he lowered the handkerchief, and, sure enough there was a black stain upon it that must have come from the typewriter. The demon looked pleased with his work, and smirked down at Vivian almost hungrily as he straightened himself.

"There, much better."

And with that, the demon left. Vivian, for the whole of five minutes, refused to move. She refused to breathe. Maybe if she passed out, somehow, in some way, this day might be improved by her being unconscious for the rest of it. It was only when Mr. Morgan yelled at her to see if the documents were translated yet that she was able to snap herself out of her catatonic state.

 _That demon...he touched me... **I'M GOING TO KILL HIM**..._

* * *

"Miss Carter!"

For possibly the hundredth time that day, Vivian sighed.

"Yes Mr. Morgan?" She asked as she reached for her jacket on the coat rack.

"I need the backlog accounts for the cotton exports."

Vivian bit back her hundredth groan.

"...they're already on your desk sir."

"What? Oh." He huffed when he turned to look, "Then get me that new American account."

"Sir," Vivian said firmly as she pulled on her jacket, "it is six o'clock."

Mr. Morgan turned and glared at the clock with disgust.

 _And if he thinks I am staying a minute past, then I will have no choice but to lock him in the filing room for all of eternity._

Thankfully, it never came to this as Mr. Morgan nodded.

"So it is. Be here on time tomorrow."

"Of course. Goodnight sir."

Vivian turned to leave then, but stopped in front of her desk. Packed back into its box was the dress the demon had left to her. She had not touched it expect to move it aside to finish her work day. If she left it, then maybe someone on the cleaning staff might steal it. Then she wouldn't have to think about it ever again. That suited her fine.

But then...what if the demon had cursed it? What if whoever wore it fell under his spell?

Sighing, Vivian roughly grabbed the dress box and tucked it under her arm.

 _I'll take it home and make certain it is not dangerous, and then tear it up for cleaning rags._

If it was ladylike to sprint, Vivian would have for the door. She had waited an eternity for this day to end, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. Before she could make her escape though, Mrs. Hamish came across Vivian at the door, and smiled.

"Leaving, Miss Carter?"

"Yes. I fear if I stay another minute, Mr. Morgan will have me washing windows or something." Vivian grumbled, needing to voice one of the thousands of complaints she wanted to scream out.

"The entire female staff is in a titter by the way. Your handsome gentleman caller caused quite a stir."

Vivian felt the vein in her temple throb. Of course the women of Morgan's & Son's noticed the demon. They were quick to notice any fresh face, but with the face he had, Vivian wouldn't be surprised if the demon seduced women without even trying. Yet another annoying trait of demons. That and their sense of the dramatic.

"The butler? Hardly a gentleman." Scoffed Vivian.

 _More like a beast._

Mrs. Hamish took note of the pale color of the younger woman, and became worried.

"Are you alright dear? He seemed to have shaken you." She asked as she placed a hand on Vivian's shoulder. Surprised by the gentle touch, Vivian smiled bashfully.

"No. He startled me is all."

"Well, I don't like the idea of you walking home yourself. Let me escort you tonight."

Mrs. Hamish had asked Vivian this every night since the constables and Earl appeared and questioned her about the Butcher. Of course such news caused a riot of gossip at Morgan's & Son's, and Vivian was still getting questions about it. As she had with the constables, she told the same story, and the pity she received for her 'horrifying experience' was starting to get annoying. Only Mrs. Hamish's concern struck her as genuine. Still, even this Vivian could not accept.

"Do not worry for me, Mrs. Hamish. I never do anything that could be construed as rash."

Before the older woman could protest, Vivian gently removed her hand, and marched for the door.

"Goodnight Mrs. Hamish, and give my best to your husband!" She shouted as she waved back.

Upon exiting the building, Vivian was greeted by the cool air of evening. The sun was only just setting, and all decent folk were rushing to their homes quickly. But Vivian was in no hurry. She always appreciated the sight of the docks at night. The moon on the Thames was more than beautiful, it was perhaps one of the few moments of tranquility Vivian could rely upon. She never feared for her own safety when staying out after dark, if anything she would worry if she could control her strength if she was ever accosted by ruffians.

Vivian willed herself to try and enjoy the end of her day. The demonic presence of the butler had dimmed some since her encounter with him, and it proved her guess that she was starting to become accustomed to it. As disgusting as that thought was, it did finally allow Vivian a chance to breathe.

Spying a food cart along the road, Vivian opened her coin purse.

"What can I get for you miss?" Cheerily greeted the young man behind it before pointing to the hanging menu sign, "I got hot eels, pickled whelks, sheep's trotters, hot green peas, penny pies, plum 'duff-"

"I'll take the beef pudding with ale and parsnip." Vivian interrupted before she could become sick. As much as she loved the docks, the local cuisine often left a lot to be desired.

"Right away ma'am!" The man beamed. He took a pair of tongs and began to hunt for the best pudding he could offer such a pretty girl - _wink_. Vivian glanced away with a shy smile, only to spy the display of sweets.

 _Don't do it. You are barely meeting your expenses this month, and your pay will not be in for another four days. So do not do it._

"...and a spice-cake too please." Vivian muttered, and the young man gave her another toothy grin.

"Of course!"

Vivian lowered her head in shame

 _I have no willpower._

She paid him the shillings owed, and took with her the cloth bundle he loaded her order into. He also offered her pint of warm ale for free, but Vivian made it a point to never drink or accept gifts from strange men.

 _Well, until today that is_ , Vivian thought as she glanced at the dress box under her arm.

Vivian made it to her tenant building in record time. She practically ran up the four flights of stairs. Vivian purposefully chose a room on the highest floor overlooking the docks, but despite all her years of training even she was breathless by the time she made it up. She had reached the door of her room and just pulled out her key, when a voice like a harpy screeched at her.

"Miss Carter!"

 _Oh, by the Divine. What now?_

"Yes, Mrs. Williams?" Vivian cringed as the landlady of the tenant building stalked towards her. The woman had every aspect of the appearance of a hawk, and was twice as fearsome. Owning a half-way home for wayward women was not easy, but she seemed to enjoy being taciturn and ruthless.

"Are you, or are you not aware for the rules for this tenant building?" Mrs. Williams accused with her beady eyes. Vivian blinked at her in confusion.

"I paid for the rent on the first, just as stipulated in the-"

"You've a cat in your room!"

Vivian's eyes darted towards her door nervously.

 _Do not panic. Remain calm. Now smile._

"A cat? Now, Mrs. Williams, whatever gave you that idea?" She laughed nervously.

"I heard it! Mewling up a storm it was! And I smelt fish!"

"The building is on the docks, Mrs. Williams. It's not uncommon to smell fish on occasion. Or sewage. Or tar. Or-"

"You know what I mean!" Mrs. Williams barked.

Vivian shrugged innocently. "Perhaps it was one of the cats that hangs about on the rooftop you heard. I would _never_ have a cat in my room. Rules are rules, you know, and yours are not made to be broken."

Mrs. Williams was not having it. She crossed her arms furiously.

"It's not just that! I also heard footsteps in there!"

At this, Vivian arched a suspicious brow.

"...footsteps?"

"And they were a man's footsteps! You're hiding a lover, aren't you?!"

"Mrs. Williams," Vivian smirked, "trust me when I say, you would be more reasonable in suspecting the Queen's crown jewels were stashed in my room than a man."

Mrs. Williams' eyes narrowed. She looked Vivian up and down, sizing her. With a sour scowl, she finally nodded.

"Hmph. Fine." She conceded before shoving a finger in Vivian's face, "But I know what I heard! And if I ever catch that cat, I'm going to give it and you what for!"

"And a goodnight to you as well, Mrs. Williams." Smiled Vivian.

Vivian watched the landlady sharply turn for the stairs. When she disappeared, Vivian faced the door. She stood as still as possible, barely breathing. Listening, she could not hear a sound beyond the door, but she would be a fool to think that meant it was safe. Inserting her key, she turned it, and threw open the door.

She stepped inside, eyes darting everywhere. She checked inside her wardrobe, behind the door, under her bed. There was nothing. There was no one.

Nothing was out of place, and yet, there was something...no. It was nothing.

"Paranoid harpy." Vivian cursed as she breathed out in relief. Standing up from beside the bed, Vivian saw a white clump of fur untangle itself from her sheets to stretch.

"Georgette, what did I tell you about making a ruckus while I'm gone? If Mrs. Williams ever does find you, it will be both our hides!" Vivian hissed lowly as she marched back to close the door.

"Honestly, that woman terrifies me more than any devil ever could."

Georgette only mewled happily at Vivian. The room did smell of fish, and Vivian suspected her pet had dragged a treat for herself inside. She would find its remains later, but for now she was tired.

"Ah, I had a day, I tell you." Vivian sighed as she went to close the window as well. She always left it open for Georgette to come and go as she pleased, although at night she closed it until morning. Sometimes Georgette would stay with her for the night, sometimes not. But Vivian liked her for that. Cats were unpredictable and yet still managed to be so innocent.

Vivian set the dress box in a chair in the corner, and removed her jacket. She put it away in her wardrobe, and then proceeded to unbutton her blouse a little and rubbed her neck tiredly. Plopping herself down at her table, Vivian grabbed her bundled dinner and arranged it on a plate.

As Vivian began to eat, Georgette sniffed the air and then decided to jump from the bed and onto the table.

"No." Vivian warned. The cat paid her no mind. She reached out a paw towards a piece of beef on the plate. Vivian pushed it away.

"No, Georgette. Stop."

Georgette was not one to give up, and so laid herself down beside the empty flower vase on the table. Flipping onto her back she pretended not to be interested in the slightest anymore of what Vivian was eating. And when she started purring, Vivian smiled.

"Fine. You win."

Tossing her the beef, Georgette gave Vivian a happy chirrup before trotting off into a corner to eat. Vivian couldn't help but shake her head. She finished her own meal in time, and was already eyeing the spice cake. In an effort to ignore it, Vivian stood up and went to her gramophone on her bedside table. She pulled out her small box of wax cylinders, considering which one she wanted to listen to. She decided on one of her favorite sonatas.

The grainy sound of a piano slowly filled the small flat, pushing away Vivian's troubles. Well, most of them anyway. The demonic presence of the butler - Sebastian she supposed she ought to call him - still pressed against the edges of her mind. Eyeing the box she had placed in the corner, Vivian strode over to it.

She took the dress out, and going over to her full length mirror, held it up in front of her. It had a line of buttons down the back, and the sash at the waist was tied into a bow that's ties nearly reached the floor. It was soft, and against her the dark lilac made her hair seem all the whiter. It really was lovely.

"Well, the butler has taste, I will allow him that."

When Vivian noticed her reflection smiling back at her, she shook her head and tossed the dress away from her. It crumpled itself sadly in the corner.

"To Hell with it."

She marched back over to the table, grabbing the spice cake. Retreating to her bed, Vivian began to nimble at it. Sweets always had a way of making her feel better, possibly because she never really had any as a child. Her meals were bland, meant for nutrition rather than taste. Her training was rigorous, demanding, and unforgiving. And her father and his associates were all those things. They were the liars that covered for her actions, but now she was left to fend for herself. She had to make her meals, she had to watch her back on hunts, and she had to live with the lies. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Vivian curled herself onto her bed. Her bed. This flat, despite its flaws and tyrannical landlady, was hers as was everything in it. This was the most Vivian could expect of freedom, and it was more than she had ever dreamed possible. Even her job was a joy by comparison to what she had grown up with.

She had been bred and raised for one purpose, and one only. To be a Huntress was to devote your life to humanity itself - so her father said.

And yet, to Vivian, it all seemed rather pointless.

 _No, not pointless. Their way of going about things was. And now that I've gotten out from under their thumbs, I'm going to succeed where my mother, where my ancestors, had failed._

This was Vivian's plan; she was going to be the one to end the wickedness. To end the demons.

Every...last...one of them.

And when she was done, no one would have to suffer as she suffered.

She had come a long way in two years, sacrificing much and taking roads from which there was no turning back, but it would be worth it in the end. When she had killed and removed the heart of the last demon on Earth, it would be all worth it. Her training, her misery, the vault, the nightmares, and her lost chances for any shred of happiness...it would be worth it.

It had to be.

There were only a few demons left in the whole of England. This she knew in her heart. She had grown stronger than any Huntress before her, and had accomplished more in her two years than most had in their entire life. Once done here, she would move to France, then Germany, and from there on...who knew? In truth, Vivian knew she stood little chance of reaching her goal. A human only lived so long after all. But if her attempt made any sort of progress, it would most definitely be worth it.

Because even if she failed, she would make certain no one would suffer as she did. She would be the last of the Hunters, one way or another. She would end the bloodline with herself. Her father of course wished to see her married soon - to provide an heir to the Hunters, one of the many reasons Vivian had cut herself from him. She would never bear to see any child of hers go through what she had to. Never.

She would sooner die by a demon's hand.

Troubled now, Vivian laid her head down and closed her eyes, hugging her legs to her. She tried to ignore her hurried heartbeats, refusing to think on the demon butler and his ilk. She would take this time until he and his master left to enjoy what little peace there was for someone like her. She would just lay here and listen to the music.

Moments passed, and Vivian finally began to feel herself relax. It had been an exhausting few days, and her body was now starting to wear. She could feel herself being lulled into sleep, but tried to fight it since she was still in her work clothes. It proved difficult though as her eyelids became heavy and her breaths became slower and slower...and slower...

Something lightly touched her face then.

A sensation of warmth. It gently moved aside the stray hairs that had fallen across her face. Vivian wondered if she was dreaming now, and so didn't protest when the whisper of a soft touch, like a finger, traced itself down her cheek, down her neck, and to the exposed skin her open collar showed. When the sensation hesitated there, Vivian turned herself closer to it with a sigh, finding herself strangely enamored with this dream. It felt good...

When a sound - _a chuckle?_ \- came to her attention, Vivian pried opened her eyes. Expecting Georgette to be curling up against her, she was instead greeted by a pair of red eyes peering down at her.

As red as blood.

A panic flooded in Vivian, and all traces of the dream ended as she knew herself to be in a nightmare instead. She was in the vault. She was trapped in the vault again. The red eyes were staring down at her, devouring her with their claws and teeth. Rather than bear the pain again, Vivian reacted.

 ** _"Discede Malum!"_** She screamed, and instantly a bright light sparked about her. It flashed so brightly it hurt the red eyes, forcing them back. She heard a growl of pain, and when the spell had run its course, the red eyes were gone.

Vivian's was panting, her heart surging again. She looked everywhere, but there was nothing but the dark in her room. Georgette was by the window, arched and hissing at Vivian for startling her. Vivian fell back onto her bed with a sigh.

She must have startled herself awake. How she hated that nightmare...but at least this time she ended it before it made her live through the pain again. She must have been asleep, for the candle she had lit was extinguished now, and moonlight fell through her open window. The curtains fluttered in the breeze, catching Vivian's curiosity.

"Didn't I...didn't I close that window?"

* * *

"Good morning, my lord." Sebastian greeted as the young Earl shuffled his way tired into the breakfast room. He had been like this since Sebastian woke him to dress an hour ago, and hadn't improved one bit. Sebastian was almost pressed to say it was adorable how difficult his master found mornings.

"For breakfast, I have prepared a morel mushroom and Emmental cheese quiche, with a hashed potato crust." Sebastian announced as he pushed in Ciel's chair, "To balance with the savory flavors, a date and cardamom puff pastry and Elderberry tea."

"Elderberry?" Ciel murmured, sluggishly picking up the cup once Sebastian had poured for him. He took a tentative sip, and then nodded.

"It will do."

"There are several letters for you sir. Dinner invitations it appears from both Lord Durnish and Marchioness Harrington. Do you wish to read them while you eat?" Sebastian asked while holding out the silver tray he placed the letters on. Ciel ignored them as he picked at the quiche crust.

"No. Decline them."

Sebastian arched a brow schooling at the young master, who upon catching the look, sighed.

" _Politely_."

"Very well, my lord."

Silence enveloped the room as Ciel ate his breakfast. As his mind began to catch up to his body, Ciel began to think of the matters at hand. When he had finished, he tossed his napkin onto the plate and slouched in his chair.

"What developments have there been on the Butcher case?"

It was the third day since they had viewed the eighth victim, and progress had been slower than what Ciel wanted. Sebastian had followed all his orders though, and now it was time to report what he had found.

"I have viewed all of the victims' bodies. As we suspected, they are all demons."

Ciel raised a passive brow.

"Eight demons...who would have thought there would be so many of your kind walking these streets." He then turned a smirk up towards his butler, "Perhaps you are not so exceptional after all, Sebastian."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his master, but continued to smile.

"Common garden variety demons, I assure you. However," Sebastian paused as he pulled some papers out from his inner coat pocket. "Eight is not the total of victims the Butcher has slain though. I had gone through the files of all the London morgues, and found records of similar deaths throughout the city. I even exhumed the bodies to make absolutely certain they were demons."

He placed the documents on the table for Ciel to view, burial records at the top. Coming across victim names he was not familiar with, Ciel glanced up at Sebastian.

"And?"

"And there are a total of twelve victims going back this past year and a half, and these are of course only the bodies that had been found."

Ciel could not help but chuckle. This case had certainly gotten a lot more interesting. "Twelve? My, my. Our Butcher is a busy man. Not even the Ripper reached that number of victims..."

At the mention of his unfortunate aunt, Ciel paused to think. Though she had help from something supernatural, it was in essence she who was guilty for the slain victims. Ciel found it amusing that they were even using that word in this case. Victims. Demons could hardly be called such, could they? If it were up to him, he would never bother with this whole thing. But as these deaths unsettled the Queen, and therefore the country, Ciel had no choice but to proceed. Demons or no, the Butcher would be held accountable for their deaths.

The question now was, who was the Butcher? Better yet, how to stop him.

"Sebastian, what have you discovered of the Butcher himself?"

Sebastian's smile widened, becoming a smirk.

"I have placed myself as bait, expanding my demonic...presence, if you will. If the Butcher was a demon hell-bent on expanding his territory, he would not hesitate to confront my intrusive claim. In fact, I suspect I am the sole demon in the whole of London, if not the entire south of England."

"Hm. Square one then."

"Not necessarily. For I have also been following up on the intriguing Miss Carter." Sebastian stepped closer to his master, moving aside the burial records to reveal more records ranging from a tenant application, an employee identification card, and even receipts for purchases. The first day in London, Sebastian had devoted himself to gathering as much as a could about the so called victims as well as act as bait on his master's orders. When this proved to be of little use outside of proving what they suspected, Sebastian acted on his master's less implicit order, and discover what he could about the _very_ intriguing Miss Carter.

"If you will view these my lord, you may notice that the records collected on the young woman do not reach back more than a year and a half. And if you look closely at the civil registration of birth, it is a forgery."

Ciel looked at them each in their turn, eyeing them critically before finally smirking.

"An assumed name. I wonder what kind of past a secretary must have to reinvent herself."

"An interesting one, to be sure. From my observation of her, she appears to speak and write French, Latin, and German fluently, and seems to have a passion for poetry, piano sonatas, and sweets. She is well liked by most of her fellow employees, although her employer seems to undervalue her despite the thirteen percent rise in efficiency his company has benefited from since her hiring. She is a truly admirable secretary - organized, quick, and professional, even if easily startled." Sebastian finished with a note of humor.

Ciel took this well of information and let it sink in. From her tastes and abilities, he would place her as the daughter of nobility. He himself could never recall any family with a daughter of so striking an appearance as Miss Carter. But then it appeared that she distanced herself from the society the same time he had assumed the position of Earl and Guard Dog after his family's death, so it was likely they had never met. But then, she might just be the daughter of a well to do family of new money. In either case, the coincidence of her arriving in London the same time as the beginning of the murder was hardly chance.

Ciel knew what it meant, even if he was a little surprised. She hardly looked the kind of woman who went after demons, let alone knew of their existence. But then he was a firm believer in appearances being nothing but deceptive. Still, the question remained how the woman and the murders were linked. From the knowing grin Sebastian was giving him, the demon already seemed to know, but Ciel would not having him gloating for long.

"If there are no demons here...then she is not contracted to one. No demon would leave his prey so unguarded." Ciel concluded. Sebastian gave a firm nod.

"Never."

It was against every instinct in a demon to leave his prey unguarded. Sebastian knew Miss Carter could not be contracted to one the moment he sensed that he was the only demon in the vicinity. Of course, he had to confirm. After observing her from a distance, Sebastian came up with the excuses of returning her key and the gift of the dress in order to have another chance to talk with her.

That his appearance had startled her into practically ramming herself into a bookshelf to get away from him amused the demon to no end. That she stuttered and shook nervously before him even more so. He could hear her little heart beat in her chest like a panicked little bird. His presence clearly affected her. When she knelt before him to pick up the books...Sebastian could not help but delight over her lovely position before him. And her meek voice announcing his name, it surprised him how much he enjoyed the sound of it from her lips…

But when he touched her to wipe away the ink on her face, he knew she did not possess a contract. He would have been able to sense the mark of a demon on her body even through the cloth of his gloves. All he felt was her warmth. And yet, he did sense something...and an old instinct murmured in his mind then. She was an interesting creature, as he now well knew, but even more so for the way she made him want to -

"What else did you discover?"

"The moment I discovered the coincidence of her appearance and the killings, I deemed it necessary to search the young lady's apartment. She seems to live within her means and has tactful taste in furniture. Also, in a hat box, she keeps several letters she wrote as a child to a friend simply named E." Sebastian listed.

His strange reaction to her provoked him to continue his investigation, although that halted the moment the white cat entered the room. He did not bother to mention the lovely Angora feline he had come across. She had leapt through the open window from which he had entered, obviously at home there.

And s _uch lovely paws she had, and such pure blue eyes. Ah, truly a fine specimen of feline grace and independence!_

He could hardly resist fetching her a fish from the nearby market for her to enjoy, which she devoured with her lovely, long fangs. She even _purred_ for him!

"Sentimental, but pointless." Ciel hissed, bringing Sebastian back to the matters at hand.

It was true, most of Miss Carter's flat pointed to nothing substantial. And when she had arrived home earlier than he expected, he had to hide himself away. Her suspicion aroused by her - _nosy_ \- landlady, had her search the room. However, Sebastian was able to wait just outside her windowsill. He had watched her eat, watched her talk to her cat like a dear friend, and even saw her take out the dress.

He had purchased it himself, guessing her size. He had been right - of course he had - and some strange part of him felt pleased to see her smile when she held it up to her reflection, the same strange part of him that wanted to growl when she threw it away in a corner. However, when she curled upon her bed and fell to sleep in her work clothes - how _careless_ of her - he risked entering her room to finish his search.

The woman lived so simply that there was little else to search. The only place he hadn't was the bed, and that would prove to be a little difficult to search, even for him. But he did search. And not only did it provide informative but... _entertaining,_ as well...

"She had a signet ring hidden under her mattress. One whose crest will surely interest you."

Sebastian reached once more into the hidden pocket of his coat, and placing the ring on the table. Ciel reached out for it, and turning it over, stared at the small icon.

"A dove holding an olive branch in its mouth and clutching a sword. A harbinger of peace armed with justice." He muttered to himself, interpreting the symbols.

"And a blue stone eye for truth that it perceives." Finished Sebastian. Ciel shook his head and placed the ring back on the table.

"I've never seen this crest before."

Here, Sebastian's smirk returned.

"Few have I suspect. The Order of the Hunt died long ago. Around five hundred years. Or so, we thought."

Ciel looked towards the demon, suspicious of his words.

"We?"

The demon chuckled. He hardly knew where to begin. Not even he thought this to be a possibility. And yet, it only seemed fitting. Truly, it was a rare thing for him to be surprised, but surprised him Miss Carter did. She shocked him when he saw that ring, and to feel such a thing was rare for a demon. In fact, for him it was almost a delight. It was such a rare pleasure to meet an old adversary after so long...it was rather like greeting an old friend...

"They were a cult that had dedicated themselves since man could comprehend good and evil to the eradication of all...wickedness." Sebastian sneered with humor. Even Ciel chuckled, understanding what the demon was implying.

"Well, they have not been very successful then, have they?"

"No, but they were a nuisance in the old days."

Ciel nodded in agreement.

"As is our Butcher currently."

"Yes. So far, my acting as bait has only made the Butcher determined to postpone any hunting, as she's rather wary of our presence. How clever of her to lie as she did, blaming another demon for the crimes."

Yes, Miss Carter was smart. She knew to confront a demon like himself out in the open would be a disastrous affair, and so was biding her time. Through his observation of her, Sebastian found her to be such a fascinating creature, but now he understood what his instincts had been whispering of her since their meeting.

How strange. For by most standards, she was ordinary. She was educated and intelligent, yes, but her seeming lack of confidence was tiresome to behold. Her appearance was pretty at best, with wide eyes, small features, and clear pale skin...although she was rather slim for a woman her age. But the adorable way she would stiffen whenever her boss said something insipid, or when she curled herself up onto her bed, it charmed the demon. Even more so when he discovered what she was.

 _A Huntress. A demon slayer._

Sebastian now knew why the small, unassuming woman had gained his attention. Her white hair, her nervous caution around him, and even the sickly sweet scent of her pure soul pointed to all this. The signet ring only confirmed.

Again, Sebastian would have never suspected, namely because he had no reason to. Not when their kind had - supposedly - been wiped out. Such an innocent face...to be responsible for slaying his kind without mercy. An enemy of old revived in the body of a young woman. An enemy that evoked a hate so strong, so repellent, in Sebastian it could almost be mistaken for admiration. The notion had a perverse charm on Sebastian, and before he realized what he was doing, he had reached a hand out to her while she slept.

As before when he had touched her, her skin's warmth reached him even through the gloves. For something so powerful - powerful enough to kill _twelve_ demons - her skin was soft. The shiver of a peculiar sensation came over him, convincing Sebastian to grace the length of her neck with his gloved fingers. When he reached her collar bone, she shifted towards his touch, as if silently pleading for more. The notion made him chuckle, waking the sleeping Huntress. The spell she cast to banish evil had actually hurt him, though he wondered if she really knew it was him rather than a dream...or a nightmare...

"Why? If the Order of the Hunt is determined to kill demons, why hesitate now?" Ciel asked, bringing Sebastian's out of his thoughts. He laughed once more.

"You would not expect a cat to go after a hound, would you master?"

"No." Ciel replied, confused by Sebastian's sly smile.

"But...a cat would chase after a mouse."

The young lord sighed, understanding what his demon was suggesting. It would be a tiresome affair, but it had to be done. After all, the Queen had given him a task, and complete it he would. This very night.

As for Sebastian, he too looked forward to the conclusion. Not only as it was the whim of his master, but also to see the intriguing Miss Carter in action. Yes, he looked forward to seeing her struggle at the end of his hook, writhing like a wounded animal. To see the light leave her lazuline eyes as he wrapped a hand around the beautiful column of her neck...and eliminate once and for all the Order of the Hunt...

 _Rest well, Miss Carter. Tonight, the Divine will dance once more against a Demon._

* * *

Hoo boy! Things are going to get intense. Don't worry folks, the next chapter will be up within a week. So join Vivian as she walks right into a trap, and fights tooth and nail against a demon that has the audacity to flirt with her?! And oh, yeah, I guess a main character is gonna die in the next chapter too, so...yeah. ENJOY!


	4. Fighting in the Alley

**Chapter 4; Fighting in the Alleyway:**

Yay! So much positive feed back! It warms my soul. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter then, as it has a lot more action and Vivian/Sebastian time. Please enjoy lovelies!

* * *

 _Drink, and fill the night with mirth!_

 _Let us have a mighty measure,_

 _Till we quite forgot the earth,_

 _And soar into the world of pleasure!_

 _Drink, and let a health go round,_

 _Tis the drinker's noble duty,_

 _To the eyes that shine and wound,_

 _To the ladies that bud in beauty!_

The ditty filled the close, smoke filled air of the tavern. A rowdy bunch of sailors had decided three pints ago to serenade the entire tavern whether they wanted to be or not, but so far there were no objections. In fact, several of the ladies who had just finished their shifts at the nearby factories had started dancing with a few of them, creating a rather lively atmosphere.

Vivian sat at her table, waiting for her dinner, watching the others with passive interest. It was one of her usual places, perfect for the autumn evening that had descended upon London. She noticed a young boy coming in - perhaps twelve or thirteen, hard to tell by the flat cap pulled low to hide his face – coming in from the cold and asking for coins. He went unnoticed by the tavern owner, who was shouting at the sailors to let one of the barmaids past their reel. The barmaid finally managed and set down the bowl of soup she had been carrying.

"Here's your beef and barely miss." She smiled to Vivian.

"Thank you. Oh! And do you mind bringing me one...no, _two_ Gypsy tarts?" Vivian asked bashfully.

"Of course!"

The barmaid left, this time getting caught by one of the sailors. She giggled as the man twirled her in time to the ditty, ignoring the glares of the tavern owner. Vivian smiled to herself, taking in the scene curiously. They looked be having so much fun. She was half tempted to join them if she knew the steps. She watched them for a minute while her soup cooled, but she just couldn't decipher it.

 _I can perform flips, split jumps, aerial cartwheels...but ask me to do a waltz or reel and suddenly I'm hopeless. One of life's great mysteries I suppose._

Vivian felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.

The demon butler and his master were gone.

What he told her yesterday then turned out to be true. After her shift at Morgan's & Son's though, Vivian once more stopped by the Earl's townhouse to make certain. The lights were all off, and the house looked empty and cold. Even better, Vivian could not feel any trace of the demon. Not one bit. The whole of London was free of the butler's demonic presence, purified and reborn. Vivian's heart for the first time in nearly a week finally felt calm.

She wanted to sing...but she wouldn't.

Despite her horrible nightmare last night - after which she didn't get an ounce of sleep - things were finally starting to return to normal. To celebrate, she went to her favorite tavern near her tenant building for a late dinner.

 _I deserve it. And those Gypsy tarts. I can live off of tea the rest of the week until my pay comes in._

The demon butler was gone, that was good enough for Vivian. But unfortunately she still would be unable to go hunting. At least, not in London. She wouldn't risk it now, as it would surely call back the Earl Phantomhive to pursue the 'Butcher' even more vigorously. This left a few options available to her then. Either she waited months on end to hunt and then still run the risk of getting chased by the Queen's Guard Dog, or she moved. Not wanting to forgo her duties for so long, the latter seemed more reasonable.

So then...Vivian's plans were being put into action a little sooner than she anticipated. There were few enough demons in England now but with the demonic butler searching for her, Vivian could do nothing until she killed him. But she was no match for him. At least, not yet. Not until she got stronger.

And the only way for her to do that was to slay other demons until she was one day powerful enough to slay him. Then she would return and finish what she started in England. But in the meantime she would move elsewhere, and deal with the demons there.

 _Yes, good plan. Good. I like this plan a lot, especially if it means that I never have to see Mr. Morgan again for as long as I live._

Vivian had to say her mind was reeling with ideas. She had always wanted to travel, and now circumstances were forcing her to. Of course, it was still according to plan, just a little bit earlier than anticipated. It also gave her a goal in mind: to become strong enough to defeat the demon butler. In a strange way, she was looking forward to the challenge. She was looking towards the move even more so. It opened for her for the first time something she had never got a chance to taste: possibilities.

 _Where to move to? Well, I have only a little saved up, so some place nearby. I also speak French and German, so those two would be the wisest choices. But then, what about Spain? I think the warmer weather would suit me. And I always wanted to try leche frita. Oh! But then Italy had cannoli, panettone, cassata...struffoli I've heard is very good. What about Sweden? The chocolates they have there are-_

"You look lonely tonight miss. Why not join me for a dance?"

Vivian was jostled from her thoughts to finally notice one of the sailors had come up to her table in the corner.

"Hm?" She blinked up at him before realizing what he had asked, and replied embarrassingly, "Oh! N-no thank you. I don't dance."

The man cocked his head to once side, forcing his smile bigger so that it showed off all his stained teeth. All of his other companions had managed to find themselves a little tail to have fun with in this tavern, and he wasn't about to be the odd man out.

"Well, how about I buy you a drink then? Pretty thing like you, we could have some fun."

And Vivian's small amount of patience was gone just like that.

"I don't drink." She told him sternly as she took another spoonful of soup. The sailor's smile twitched into a scowl.

"I suppose you don't have fun neither too."

Vivian held in a groan.

 _My ancestors were blessed by angels and eradicating demons while yours were still swinging from trees...I shouldn't have to put up with this._

Vivian was about to open her mouth to say something she would more than likely regret, when the sound of glass breaking caught everyone's attention. The room became quiet as all turned towards one of the sailors and the small boy that had sneaked in.

"I said get off you beggar!" He snarled, grabbing the boy by his shirt collar. The boy tried to pry off the man's hands from him, all while pleading with him.

"Please sir, just a penny. My mother and sisters are starving-"

"Shove off!" The sailor snarled before throwing the child against a table so harshly that it turned over. The woman who had been dancing with the sailor barked a laugh as the boy then crumpled to the floor, looking sick. The tavern owner was about to step out from behind the bar to throw the urchin out, but Vivian beat him there.

She knelt down and helped the child back to his feet before she really knew what she was doing, but her anger was boiling none the less. Turning towards the sailor, she smirked.

"Picking on a child half your size. You must have a lot to compensate for."

The sailor, sensing more by her tone than words that she was mocking him, snarled. He stood two feet taller than Vivian, and weighed a good few stone heavier than her.

 _Oh, boy. Someone's been drinking their milk._

"Eh? What did you say lass?" The man sneered at her challengingly. Vivian - despite evidence to the contrary - was not a violent person by nature. With a glance towards the other tavern patrons that were now looking tense for a fight, she decided to defuse the situation the best way she knew how.

"I said...drinks on me!" She shouted with a grin. All anger left the room immediately as the sailors gave out a hearty roar.

"Hear, hear!"

Vivian slapped a few coins down on their table, mourning the loss of her Gypsy tarts she now could not afford. A few of the sailors blessed her generosity, ignoring her the moment the promised pints made their way to them. Vivian saw this as her chance and sulked away, deciding to go home before something else could happen.

Vivian had barely made it to the street corner when she heard someone chasing her.

"Thank you ma'am! You got me out of quite the fix!" Gasped the boy who had ran after her. He seemed to be a bit bashful, as he kept his head down and tugged at his flat cap some. He still managed to give her a thankful smile that was quite captivating.

"How can I repay you ma'am?"

Vivian felt a grin turn the edges of her lips, but tried to contain it. She faced the boy, putting her hands on her hips.

"Firstly, where do you get off calling me ma'am? I'm hardly older than you are!"

The boy was surprised by her serious tone, and stuttered.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am, I mean...miss? Or-"

"Second," She interrupted to push a finger in the boy's face, making him panic even more, "there is something you are better off learning now that is there are only three certainties in life: death, taxes, and idiots. Avoid all three if possible."

The boy was now looking at Vivian as if she was a madwoman, and Vivian's serious expression broke as she giggled. She then took out her coin purse and held out what little was left inside it.

"And thirdly, the food stall near the old fishery has some pretty cheap fare. Buy meals for your family there." When the boy hesitated to take the coins from her, Vivian reached out and grabbed his hand, placing the coins in his palm. For a begging boy wearing worn out threads, his hand was suspiciously soft...

"Good advice ma'am, uh, I mean miss!" Thanked the boy, who sharply pulled his hand away from Vivian. She laughed and smiled at him again before turning to leave.

 _What an adorable boy. Fast learner too._

She probably shouldn't have given the rest of her money away, but her overwhelming relief had her feeling magnanimous. Besides, she could always steal biscuits to eat from Mr. Morgan's personal stash of treats. She had often helped herself to them before, but anything that went missing Mr. Morgan thankfully blamed on mice.

Vivian was at the front steps of her tenant building within a few minutes. Night was closing in, and a few of Vivian's fellow renters were just now leaving for their 'evening' work. Vivian could hardly judge them for it, as desperate times called for all sorts of desperate actions, but if her father knew she had harlots as neighbors, he would turn beet red in rage. The image had her giggling all the way up to her room.

"Georgette? Are you here?" Vivian whispered as she entered. She heard nothing, and when she lit the gas lamp Vivian confirmed her feline companion was out for the night.

 _Probably out with that black tomcat again._

Vivian decided to leave the window open then, in case Georgette grew tired of her beau and decided to come home. Vivian did not object to the tomcat per say, but if Georgette had kittens Vivian would have no choice but to keep each and every single one of them as they would no doubt be adorable. And with her harpy of a landlady, it would not do.

Vivian slid out her hairpin, setting it, her hat, and her overcoat on the table. Walking over to her gramophone, she picked up two wax cylinders.

"What should it be tonight? Schumann or Beethoven?"

She weighed the two in her hands for a moment, before nodding.

"I think a little Beethoven. Beethoven is appropriate for all occasions."

Vivian started up the gramophone, filling the silence before she could become too uncomfortable. With Georgette, Vivian could pretend at the very least she wasn't always talking to herself. It was not that she was lonely per say, it was...no, wait, it was exactly that. She was lonely. And that was fine. She had always been alone, now it was just a little more obvious. Maybe she could do with a few more companions outside of Georgette...

 _Well, I could always get a dog. Although, it would be rather difficult to hide it from Mrs. Williams…_

Deciding not to think on it, Vivian began to prepare herself for bed. She poured some water into her basin, and lowered her head to scrub the grim of the day away. It was strange how relaxing she found the cold water, but then when she had lived on her family's estate she had luxuries and servants like any member of nobility. From bathing her to tying the laces of her boots, she had everything done for her. Even though it was what she had been raised with, Vivian had always found it uncomfortable. Yet another reason she was grateful for her little bit of freedom she had managed to secure for herself by leaving her father. To be out of his grip-

A slight twinge, a ruffle really, plucked at Vivian's heart. She stopped halfway in unbuttoning her dress to look at her open window. She could feel something, a slight stirring, at the fringe of her senses. And when her heart started to pick up in pace, she knew what had her suddenly anxious.

"No." She groaned pitifully, "Not now. Not tonight…"

Going over to the window, Vivian looked out on the East End. Her eyes scanned for any sign of trouble as her heart guided her to look towards a few, far away buildings near to the docks. She could feel the weak signal of a demonic presence, calling out to her as if to taunt.

"Demons really have the worst timing. I think that's what I hate most about them. That, and the whole 'eating souls' bit I guess." Vivian scowled as, for once, she hesitated.

While her impulse was to chase after any demon she came across, if anything the past few days had taught her, it was that caution was needed. The demon butler and his master had only just left, and it would be foolish of her to go out hunting when they were still trying to catch the Butcher. It would be wiser of her to wait. But, then again, with the powerful demon now gone, all the others that had occupied the area would return, and were probably hungry. The butler's presence was just that intimidating that he drove weaker demons away from their own prey. So then, perhaps it was safe for her to go out and hunt if the weaker demons felt it was - especially if they were hungry.

Vivian was still debating with herself on what to do, when she heard a scream. It was the scream of a child, and leaning herself further out of the window, Vivian realized it was coming from the same direction the demon was. By the old fishery.

 _Could it be...that boy...?_

It didn't matter if it was or not. Vivian could sense the demon's hunger. He was most likely to steal someone's soul rather than make a contract with them given how starving she sensed him to be. To have a soul ripped out of an innocent was something Vivian could never stand for!

"No rest for wicked, and so no rest for me."

Marching over to her hope chest, Vivian flung it open. She pushed aside the clutter in there to place her hand on the bottom of it. Pressing on it, the lid to a secret compartment opened, revealing a sword. Grabbing the swept hilt, Vivian lifted the sword before her.

 _"Uincere ego impius, et mundabunt terram: hoc est pignus."_ (I shall vanquish the wicked, I shall cleanse the earth: this is my pledge.) She recited. The rapier responded to the thrum of power in Vivian's voice, and a gentle glow started at the core of its blade. Brighter and brighter it shone, illuminating the entire room.

"And this time," Vivian grumbled as she went over to the window, "I swear, I'm not going to make a mess. I can't afford to. I'm running out of good dresses."

With that, Vivian stepped onto her windowsill, and then jumped.

The air rushed past her as she fell the four stories onto the street. She landed gently, almost dainty like, on her toes. She started running then, barely phased. The heels of her boots were the only sound to be heard, but soon enough another scream echoed out over the docks. Except for Vivian, it seemed as if the rest of the East End was sleeping, paying no mind to the tortured sound.

Vivian needed to hurry. To steal a soul happened faster than one might think. She was quick, but she feared she wouldn't be quick enough. Spying a narrow alleyway close by, Vivian sharply turned for it. Running down it, she gained enough momentum to run up one wall of a building. Pushing herself from it, Vivian vaulted to the opposite wall, climbing higher, and repeated. She managed to reach the roof tops in within seconds and was then racing past the chimney tops.

She arrived near the old fishery in a matter of minutes. Things had gone quiet, but Vivian was now near enough to accurately sense the demon's location. She followed the panicked rhythm of her heart until it led her to a dark alley. Skidding to turn into it, she noticed two figures. One tall and lean, hidden by a top hat and overcoat, and one small and huddled, wearing a flat cap.

Without slowing, Vivian launched herself at them. She rammed into the taller of the two - the demon - with her full weight. The demon fell back at the force of it, slamming against the dead end of the alley. Vivian had managed to stay on her feet, standing between the demon and the boy.

"Are you alright?" She asked, not looking away from the demon.

"Wh-what?" The boy, the same one she had met at the tavern, stuttered. Vivian tensed as the demon recovered himself.

"Are you hurt? Did he harm you?"

"No, ma'am. I mean...miss."

Vivian then glanced over her shoulder at the boy. He was looking at the demon, shaking with terror. Vivian tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"Then run. Fast."

The child looked to her, then to the demon, and then nodded. He stood himself up, and ran. Satisfied that he would be alright, she turned herself back to the demon. His red eyes were glaring out from under his top hat, hiding his features. He was tall, slender, and his posture was positively perfect despite having been slammed into a brick wall.

"A child's soul?" Vivian derided, "Really? I swear, every time I come across you demons, you find a way to sink lower."

The demon before her looked Vivian up and down, and his demonic presence flared in warning.

"You know what I am?" He asked. His voice was muffled as if to disguise it, but she could hear the amusement in it.

"How can I not? When your suffocating presence reeks up the whole of the East End?"

The demon's red eyes narrowed dangerously and Vivian could see him smirking under his hat.

"What a sharp tongue you have, young miss. It will be a pleasure to rip it out of your pretty little mouth."

Vivian's brow ticked in annoyance, so she lifted her sword before her face. She whispered to it, and its faint light pulsed, ready for blood.

"If you can take it, you're welcome to it."

Without another second's worth of delay, Vivian ran at the demon. She found it was best to act quickly when it came to demons. They were strong, stronger than her physically, but she always managed to surprise them with her speed and agility. With this demon, she felt it would be no different.

But when she was just about to strike at the demon's chest, he launched himself into the air. He landed behind her, forcing Vivian to spin fast in order to stop him from striking at her back. Uncomfortable with being pinned between him and a wall, Vivian advanced with wild slashes and thrusts, wanting to give herself more space. The demon responded as she had hoped, by retreating, but Vivian was surprised by how easily he avoided her sword.

 _He's fast then. I'll have to be faster._

Vivian crouched down, and then put all of herself into a lunge. Her sword reached out, and the demon's arm was pierced by the end of it. The sound of cloth tearing informed Vivian that she had missed his flesh. She shifted her grip on the sword in preparation to slash, but the demon jumped away from her. He inspected the torn sleeve with an irritated 'tsk'.

Following after him, Vivian leapt into the air. Aiming her sword's point for his chest, the demon reacted too slowly to move out of her way. Vivian was ready for this to be over, when a flash of silver stopped her sword.

Vivian's momentum ensured that she stumbled when she landed in front of the demon. She recovered quickly, but when she couldn't retreat, she noticed that the demon had locked her weapon with one of his own in his gloved hand. It was small, and had three prongs at the end, in between which her sword's thin blade was stuck. Dangerously close to the demon, Vivian kicked him in the chest, breaking the hold he had. When he skidded back, Vivian was finally able to see what he had in his hand.

Despite circumstances, Vivian paused, absolutely stunned.

 _It can't be...it is._

"A fork?" She sputtered in disbelief, "Are you having a laugh?"

The demon, politely, shook his head.

"Not yet, miss."

The demon's eyes then shifted from Vivian then, to her sword. He positively glared at it with more hate than Vivian thought possible.

"Might that be the Sword of the Holy Flame of the angel Uriel?"

Vivian couldn't help her gasp of surprise, giving the demon his answer.

"How interesting." He pondered, tilting his head curiously, "It looks different from the last time I had seen it. More refined. Where were you keeping it I wonder? I did not come across it when I searched your lodgings."

Vivian felt her sword lower a little as yet another wave of surprise came over her. Her jaw went slack, and she momentarily forgot to breathe.

 _He...he did what?_

"You were in - **_YOU BASTARD!_** " She screamed when she recovered. Heedlessly, she ran at the demon. Her sword met with the demon's fork again, but she forced it away. Preparing for a thrust at his chest, Vivian once again found herself parried with a butter knife in his other hand. She would not allow this to surprise her again, and so kept on with her advancing attacks.

"Tut, tut, miss. Such language is not dignified for a lady." He chided, his tone casual as if they were discussing the weather. Vivian practically growled at him as she crouched to try and slash at his legs.

"Don't you dare lecture me! You're the one sneaking into a lady's room at night!"

The demon jumped in time to avoid her sword, leaping over to land behind Vivian again. She turned around sharply before having to duck herself in order to avoid a slash of his cutlery. This was more than a first for Vivian. If she wasn't in the middle of it, she would think it all a joke. The demon was holding his own against every attack of Vivian's, blocking them with the cutlery. The force of her own blows blocked jolted her arm, but she kept up with her assault. When the demon slid to her left, she followed after him, and soon enough the two were circling one another.

"You move with such rhythm and grace." Laughed the demon when Vivian finally struck the fork from his grip, "Shall we?"

He extended his free hand to her as if he expected her to take it. But when she reached to slice his entire arm off, he ducked and stepped closer. Before she could recover, the demon had a grip on her wrist. Hoisting it and her sword high, he forced Vivian to dangle in front of him. His grip was painfully tight - and a _CRACK_ signaled that he had broken her wrist - but Vivian swallowed her cry of pain. She swung herself to try and kick at the demon, but he then spun about, forcing her to stumble after him on her toes.

"Let me go! What do you think you're doing?!" Vivian screeched as the demon continued to twirl her about with him, "Take this seriously, damn it!"

"You are an excellent dancer miss..." The demon praised. He reached for her, placing a hand on the small of her back to bring her closer to him. Vivian could see the edges of his fangs gleaming as he leered down at her, and felt her face flushing in anger and pain. The shade became deeper when the demon leaned himself close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath on her face.

"...and lovely too." He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hesitant to admit. Vivian, her view filled with the hunger in his red eyes, decided enough was enough. Against her instinct, she let go of her sword. As it fell, she grabbed it with her free hand, and then thrust with all her might. The demon, trapping himself so close to her, had nowhere to retreat. The give of flesh met the point of her sword, and soon it was gleaming from the back of the demon.

"Really?" Vivian said hatefully, "I find you move too slow."

She dug the sword deeper into the demon's gut, forcing a spatter of blood from the wound. It flecked red onto her dress, staining it no doubt. The demon's smirk was gone, and so was the hunger in his eyes. All that was left was shock as he finally let go of her.

"Slow…yes…" He chuckled, his voice choked as a cough forced blood from his lips. Vivian pulled her sword back from him, and without mercy, kicked the demon away from her. He fell back, collapsing to the cobble stone ground. His demonic presence wavered then, becoming weaker as the blood that drained from him pooled.

Nursing her wrist, Vivian straightened herself. It had been a while since a demon had given her that much trouble. Not since she had first started hunting on her own, and even then that one only snarled at her rather than... _flirt_. Shuddering in disgust, Vivian decided that a very hot bath was in needed once this was all over.

"By the command of the Divine," Vivian began to recite as she stepped closer to the demon, holding her sword aloft, "I the Huntress of Order, condemn you to the depths of the Hell you should have never left."

She lowered her sword to the space above the demon's heart, ready to pierce it and finish him when something moved in the corner of her eye. Turning, Vivian was surprised to see the young boy from before standing near to her and the demon.

"Child, you need to leave. This is not for your eyes." She warned, but he didn't so much as glance at her. He was just standing there, staring at the demon's body. He was still shaking, but Vivian could see it wasn't in fear...it was because he was laughing.

 _This is…well this is a first._

"Sebastian," The boy finally spoke, "are you quite done with the dramatics?"

Vivian, thoroughly confused, was startled back when the demon began to rise and straighten himself. His top hat had fallen off, and a very familiar face greeted Vivian.

 _No...it can't be..._

"Oh dear, I fear I shall never get these stains out. The suit is quite ruined now." The demon mourned as he unbuttoned his overcoat to inspect his finely tailored uniform of black. He looked up to Vivian with an irritated smile.

"You are full of surprises, Miss Carter. It has been some time since I had felt pain that... _passionate_."

 _Damn it, it is._

"You…" Vivian whispered, too shocked to move. How could it be him? The demonic presence she sensed was not half as powerful as the demon butler she had come to be wary of. But then, as if sensing what she was thinking, the foul air about the demon suddenly tripled, forcing a choked gasp from Vivian. Her heart hammered against her chest, ready to break out if there was a chance to escape the overwhelming aura.

 _He can hide his demonic presence. Of course he can. Well...you learn something new every day._

Taking advantage of her shock, the demon rushed forward. From his hands came a barrage of cutlery, and Vivian desperately countered them. The demon placed a punch at her chest before she had time to recover and she was thrown back. Vivian collided against the wall - dropping her sword in the process - and the pain of the brick breaking against her back was joined by the pain of several forks and knives piercing through her arms. They grazed her flesh, tearing into her skin to pin her like an insect on display. These were joined by several more which shredded through her skirt, securing her against the wall. Once the barrage was over, Vivian risked trying to free herself, only to scream at the torture of her attempt.

She was trapped, and in more ways than one.

"A trick." Vivian hissed, her head swimming in pain. She found it difficult to breathe, and knew that at least one of her ribs had been cracked by the impact. If she took another blow there, it might just pierce her lung.

"Yes, Miss Carter. A trick." Said the boy, removing his flat cap to reveal the face of Earl Phantomhive.

Vivian's shock went into full blown stupefaction.

"H-hey! You're not a beggar boy! I want my money back!"

 _Priorities Vivian, priorities._

The boy stepped up to join beside his demon butler, who was looking for all the world like the cat who ate the canary. Or was about to at least.

"As the Queen's Guard Dog, I Earl Phantomhive, charge you the Butcher with twelve accounts of murder."

Vivian, knowing that she was cornered - literally and figuratively - decided that there was nothing for it but to stand her ground. Figuratively, of course.

"You call it murder. I call it a cleansing." She said with a sneer aimed at the demon. He only arched an amused brow at her.

"It matters not. I dispel the Queen's worries, and your actions have worried her."

" _I_ worry her?" Vivian laughed sharply, "When there are real monsters crawling these streets?"

 _So this is irony. It tastes bitter._

"Yes, you." Started the demon, "You are of the Order of the Hunt. A Huntress. A sworn enemy of demons and their ilk. A bloodline of humans gifted by all the angels in Heaven's court to destroy all fiends of Hell in their place."

He stepped closer to Vivian, making her sick with his presence. She swallowed it down, and refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her tremble. So, he and his master did know what she was then. How long had they suspected it? What mistake of hers led them to discover her? No, that hardly mattered. What mattered was that they had her trapped now. A demon had a Huntress trapped. She knew how this would end. The blood she tasted on her lips and her shattered wrist were just the beginning.

 _I won't cry out. I won't beg or plead. I'm strong enough for that much…I hope._

"Tell me," Continued the demon, "how did your bloodline survive? I had thought all of the Order had been eliminated over five hundred years ago."

Vivian, looking from the demon and then to his master, realized they were giving her time. They had questions that demanded answers. She expected death to be upon her in a second, but it seemed she had a little longer to breathe. Vivian would take this chance then, and give them what they wanted.

 _A few moments. I can do it. Just a few moments. And then...I need a plan..._

"They nearly had." She finally answered, "The whole Order of the Hunt had perished…except for the lover of the head of the Order who was with child."

The demon looked at her in disbelief, but then shook his head in amusement.

"Of course."

"The woman knew of the Order's secrets, and schooled her daughter well. From her, my ancestors and I are direct descendants." Vivian continued unprompted. She had by now recovered from the demon's presence and attack, her vision clearing and her heart slowing. She risked calling forth the Divine within in her, gathering it to her core. If she could but get free, if she could just distract the demon, then perhaps she could survive this night...

 _A few more minutes. Just a few more. I have never asked for anything before, but please, grant me this..._

"And where is the head of the Order of the Hunt?" The Earl Phantomhive asked, but Vivian disappointed him by shaking her head.

"He doesn't matter. I do not act under them anymore. They have nothing but a name to them now."

"Oh? So you hunt demons for sport then?" At the demon's mocking, Vivian spat the blood in her mouth in his direction. He scowled when it nearly landed on his perfectly shined shoe.

"No. I hunt to eradicate them all."

The demon tried to hide a chuckle then, but his master was smirking too.

"That is a lofty goal, Miss Carter. And quite impossible." Smiled the demon viciously, "For as long as there is greed, desperation, and a desire for revenge in mankind, demons will always be."

To his surprise, Vivian also laughed. She looked the demon in the eye, matching his smirk with her own.

"Twenty."

"What?"

"I have killed _twenty_ demons in _two_ years total. Seventeen in my career as the so called 'Butcher'." At her declaration the demon's eyes widened. Vivian felt satisfied to see it. "I know that in the days before the slaughter of the Order, a Hunter might kill five demons if he was highly skilled. My mother had killed eight before her death. And I have killed twenty in two years. It may be an impossible chance to eradicate all demons, but that chance is there for me to take."

The demon butler listened intently, stepping closer to Vivian until he was right in front of her. He delighted in peering down at her, towering over her small form. His eyes were filled with scorn and disgust, as if she was the most contemptable thing he had ever seen.

"So, you are a skilled Huntress as well as secretary. Quite a threat you make, Miss Carter."

"The Order thought so too."

The demon frowned, not understanding her meaning.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Vivian avoided giving him an answer by hissing a threat, "It means I will slay you, _demon._ That is assured."

"That is quite bold talk. Until you thought me gone, you did not dare venture out to hunt. I had to bait the cat with a little mouse in order to lure her out." Vivian looked away from the demon in shame, knowing that he was right. He knew as well as her that she was not strong enough for him. And Vivian found herself feeling something she had promised herself she never would again.

Fear.

She was afraid of this demon. And the demon knew this. He was delighting over it in fact.

"We left the townhouse and I hid my demonic presence, knowing you would not show your true colors otherwise. Then by suppressing my true powers, I assumed the visage of a weak demon, one I knew you would not be able to resist. Especially if a - _supposedly_ \- innocent life was in danger, as proven by when you rescued my poor master from that rough sailor."

Vivian wondered if this play by play was strictly necessary, but the demon seemed to be enjoying his gloating. She rolled her eyes.

"You and your master are quite clever. I will allow you both that."

"I wish I could pay you the same compliment. I find you and your kind sentimental and disgustingly ideal. If it were up to me, you would be dead now." Sneered the demon, and from the look in his eyes Vivian knew what he said was true from the black pit that was his heart, "However, it is my master who shall decide what is to be done."

Both he and Vivian then turned to the young lord. Vivian knew that what was in store for her was not going to be pleasant by any means. But the demon was bound by his master's will.

"So…what would the Queen's Guard Dog do with the Butcher?" Vivian asked, wondering what the small boy had planned for her. The young lord stepped closer, looking the bleeding and scowling Vivian over carefully.

"Well, that depends on whether or not you will surrender peacefully."

Vivian narrowed her eyes. He obviously did not know much about Hunters to make such a futile request.

"I cannot nor will not. I must not be hindered in my purpose." She told him. To her, it would be a literal torture to stop in her Divine purpose. It would be like clipping a birds wings so it would never fly again.

"And I cannot allow the Butcher to continue in her grisly career." Answered the Lord Phantomhive back.

"So then what?" Chuckled Vivian tiredly, "You arrest me? Put me before a judge? I doubt the Queen or the public will feel much assured when they discover the truth-"

Something sparked to life inside Vivian. A cluster of nerves started to grow tight within her. The Divine power she had waited to call forth had now gathered itself to her heart, prepared to act out her will. She had enough to act out her plan now, but all that was needed was the opportune moment. Then, she would escape...

"Demons, Hunters, it will cause quite a stir." She continued, ignoring the pain as she wriggled against the forks and knives pinning her, "Not to mention that when the Order of the Hunt hears that I have been caught, they will fight tooth and nail to free me. And the Order occupies some of the high seats within parliament and the royal court. Whatever justice you'll try to force on me will only be thwarted by them."

This was fact, no matter how Vivian disliked it. She rather hoped the Earl would call her bluff, as she would sooner die than be placed back into the hands of the Order. Back into the hands of her father. The young lord did pause to think it seemed, glancing to his demon.

"Well then, this is quite a predicament. It would put me in an awkward position, I will admit. The Queen's Guard Dog with a demon."

"Then let us end it." Suggested the demon with a barely contained snarl, "There is only one way to stop a Hunter, my lord."

 _I am starting to think the demon doesn't like me. Good thing the feeling is mutual_ , huffed Vivian to herself.

The Earl, amused by his demon's impatience, shook his head.

"I do not think that is necessary. Who is really going to believe a secretary over an Earl? Especially when she claims the men she killed are demons? There would be no need for a trial when clearly the Butcher is a madwoman who needs to be locked away in an asylum. Does your Order have connections there I wonder?" The young lord asked Vivian challengingly.

She had to admit, she shuddered at the very idea of being locked away in such a cruel place. A choice awaited her it seemed. Asylum, or being rescued by her tyrannical father. It was a question of a rock and a hard place. Expect Vivian refused to be limited to the lesser of two evils. She had gathered enough power now, and she knew what to do. She had a plan, and it would work. It had to.

"Sebastian, secure her weapon." Ordered the young lord when it was obvious that Vivian was done talking. The demon left his master's side to where Vivian's weapon had skidded off to. Vivian knew her chance had come. She had to take it.

"I must admit," Continued the Earl, "I am rather impressed with your skills, Miss Carter. And I find it a bonus that you unsettle Sebastian. I am almost toying with the idea of asking you to join my-"

 _"Solvite!"_ (Unbind) Vivian screamed.

A shudder of light encased her, and the cutlery that had Vivian pinned broke away. They flew off from her, ricocheting everywhere. Free now, Vivian did not give herself a second to breathe before acting onto the next step of her plan. Without hesitation, she ran at the Earl. The boy had barely recovered from the barrage of cutlery, and so stood no chance when Vivian reached out to him. She grabbed at his eye patch before even his demon could return to his master's side within the split second in which all of this had occurred.

Palm facing the boy's exposed eye - discolored with the seal of the demon - Vivian put forth all of her Divine power into her next words.

"By the Blood of Angels and Hunters past, I cleanse thee! _Animum expiant!_ " (Purify the soul)

The demon had now come to his master's aid, in time to catch the boy who suddenly collapsed. He was clutching his eye, screaming and writhing in an unfamiliar agony. The demon too was growling, glancing from the boy to his left hand as if it was burning. Vivian was surprised herself at this outcome, regretting the child's pain, but it was too late to back out now.

"What are you doing?!" The demon snarled at Vivian. She made herself stand a little straighter, cradling her bleeding arms.

"I am a Huntress. You think I don't have it in my power to break the seal of a demon?"

For the first time in all of her life as a Huntress, she saw something in a demon's eyes she never thought possible: panic. She found it was a good look for him.

"I am ending your contract!" She screamed with all her pain and fear, "His soul will never be yours!"

Vivian turned to run, missing the deadly crimson that lit up Sebastian's eyes that narrowed into slits.

This was her chance, this was her plan. She would distract the demon by breaking his contract, grab her sword, and run! It was all she could do. She preferred to think of it as a tactical retreat than what it was really was - an act of cowardice. But it was all she could do. She would run, she would escape from England, she would hunt other demons, and she would get stronger and pay the demon butler back for all the agony and humiliation that surged through her now!

Vivian fell to her knees beside her sword. Her cracked rib was broken now, and it was a matter of time before it pierced her lung. And she was running out of time. Picking up her sword with her good hand, she forced herself to run. She would run, she would live!

 _Run. Escape. Grab one of my emergency stashes. Leave England. Go to France or Germany. Yes. Good plan! Poor Georgette though, I hope she will be alright on her own…_

* * *

A rage, cold and crawling over all of the demon's senses left Sebastian frozen as the Huntress escaped. It was overwhelming. Sebastian had never felt any sense of helplessness before. Not in any of his years as a demon. But his master was crying out in a pain that he could not stop. The demon was at a loss for what to do. His instincts screamed for him to chase after the Huntress and slit her open, but his hunger demanded that he take what little time there was left and consume the young lord's soul before the chance was gone forever.

For Sebastian could feel the contract between them start to break, the seal over his hand slowly being erased away. In a matter of seconds it would be shattered. Ciel's soul would never be his, and Sebastian's starvation and sacrifice would all be for nothing. For a demon, there was no greater Hell than to be denied the one of the few pleasure there was left for them to possess on this infested earth...

"Sebastian…stop…" Ciel gritted though his clenched teeth, forcing Sebastian out of his state. He lowered his face closer to his master's, intent on hearing whatever last command he had to give.

"Stop her! _Stop her now! Don't let her take you from me!_ " Screamed the young Earl through his pain. The pulse of the contract resounded at the command, and Sebastian found himself grateful to feel it. He had more time than he thought. In that case, he would be more than delighted to fulfill his master's wish.

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian lowered the young lord onto the cobbled ground. The boy convulsed and screamed, but he would fight to his last breath to keep the contract between them, and the demon would not let such a desperate, blood stained innocent soul go to waste. Standing, Sebastian removed the glove of his left hand. The faint glow of his seal was there, but it was dying.

He had to act quickly.

The demon took to the air, black feathers scattering about him chaotically. His slitted eyes searched for the little Huntress who was now going to pay dearly for her transgression of a demon's aesthetics. No one stood between a demon and his prey. Spying her some streets over, Sebastian descended. He could feel his body changing in his rage, and he let it. He refused to allow his master to see his unsightly form, but he welcomed it to be the very last thing the Huntress would see on this earth.

Wings spread, fangs bared, his black nails sharp, he tore into her exposed back. She cried out - _oh, how delicious_ \- and was thrown down before him. Her flesh gave in before his claws so easily, it was like cutting into silk. Miss Carter, the definition of despair now as blood splattered around her, forced herself back onto her knees. The demon delighted that she was not the sort to give up without a fight. Sword in hand, she raised it to strike. But the anger of the demon was greater than her desperation to live.

Before she could take a step towards him, Sebastian had already won. With his left hand, he plunged it into her chest, his claws digging into her heart. And then…

Something...something stirred.

Between the pained gasp of Miss Carter and the clatter of her sword as it dropped, something was awakened. A nerve was plucked, and the raw feeling over took the satisfaction Sebastian felt when the seal had stopped wavering. His hand involuntarily loosened its grip on her failing heart, feeling the pulses slow against his bare fingers. Sebastian did not know what this feeling was, but it filled him with sorrow and solace.

Miss Carter's eyes widened as her mind finally caught up with what her body already knew. She was dying. She reached out, and Sebastian wondered if she would try and strike him, but she only grabbed at his jacket collar to support herself. She wanted to die standing.

"T-too slow, wasn't I?" Miss Carter smiled up at him, her whole body shivering to hold on a little longer. Sebastian, with a gentleness that surprised him, removed his hand from within her. Miss Carter's face twisted in pain, but as a well of blood flowed from her she sighed as if in relief. The emotion on her face was indecipherable to the demon as her tears mingled with the blood that pooled about them both.

"...yes." He whispered to her, putting an arm about her waist when he felt her legs finally give out. She was soft and small against him, perfectly molded to his true form. Miss Carter met his crimson eyes without a hint of fear. In fact, she weakly laughed, and the sound tugged at the nerves of the demon with its tenderness.

"You know…I never learned to dance. I regret that now." Her words were barely a whisper, the last of her life being put into her voice. She was growing colder, her heart was stopping, and Sebastian found himself wishing it wouldn't, "At least...it's over. No one will...suffer...I won't..."

Miss Carter's body went limp, and her eyes lost their light.

It was over.

Sebastian had seen death many times, but he knew that Miss Carter's death was different. His master's order had been fulfilled, and he had saved his contract. So then why was Miss Carter's death... _disappointing?_ Even without the threat to his contract, Sebastian was a demon, and to kill a Hunter or Huntress had once been thought of by him and others as sport. He should be delighting over this with carnality. But the same instincts that screamed for him to slit her open now mourned, and Sebastian could not understand. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out to her face.

It was pale and smooth and cold, like marble. Skin against skin, the demon ran his blood covered fingers over her cold cheek, tracing it down her jaw, to her throat, and finally to the hollow where her heart now lay idle. His instincts sharpened themselves, finally allowing Sebastian to decipher what emotion had crept into him.

 _Possessiveness._

Miss Carter is... _was_ , his mate. His destined other half. The only calm a demon could ever know.

And he had just killed her. Sebastian had just killed his mate.

* * *

Ah...yeah. So...that happened. Foolish Vivian, she underestimated how pretty damn delicious Ciel's soul is to a demon. Well, she paid for that mistake. Shame though, seeing as how she's the heroine for this story...whelp!

Join Sebastian and Ciel in the next chapter as they attend Vivian's funeral and Sebastian has some... _regrets_. Afterwards, the Queen tells Ciel to recover from hunting serial killers by relaxing at the village of Houndsworth. But upon visiting the mayor of this not so idyllic paradise, they run into a familiar face...(Three guesses who, winner gets to be showed in sparkles).


	5. A Surprise at the Castle

**Chapter 5; A Surprise at the Castle:**

Miss Vivian Carter's funeral was a simple affair. Few were informed of her death, and those that were seemed largely unaffected by it. Mr. Morgan had glanced sadly at her desk, lamenting that he would now have to find someone else who would work as hard and as cheaply. Mrs. William's only wanted to know if she could sell Miss Carter's furniture to make up for the loss of a tenant. Coworkers and neighbors were informed via gossip of her death, expressing their condolences, but none bothered to turn up even for the sake of curiosity. A grave beside a small church outside of London was chosen as her final resting place, overlooking a green valley that one might label 'picturesque' if one was of the sentimental type.

Sebastian was not one such person.

And yet, he and his master were the only ones in attendance to Miss Carter's funeral service aside from the priest. They did not know if Miss Carter was even religious, let alone if Vivian Carter was truly her name. But the Earl Phantomhive had taken it upon himself to provide a decent burial for her despite all the trouble she had given them. He said it mattered little now how they dealt with her body, as the Queen's command to stop the Butcher had been fulfilled. What they reported to the Queen was a simplified version of the truth: a young woman, plagued with troubles few would understand, attacked men she claimed were demons. In her madness she attempted to harm both the Earl and his butler, and they reacted in self-defense. The woman's name would be kept from the general public, as too prevent the shame of her – supposed – family. This would hopefully offer sufficient peace to her Majesty that the case was closed and properly dealt with.

Sebastian had to contain a sneer.

 _Peace, only the dead can know such a thing. And yet…_

Sebastian refused to look at the closed coffin. He knew what lay within it, but did not want to think about it.

Miss Vivian Carter, pale and still, dressed in the gown he had given to her with the signet ring of the Order of the Hunt worn on her left hand. Sebastian had retrieved it and the dress for her to be buried with, as none of the other gowns she had were appropriate for her final occasion. Sebastian's orders to make arrangements for Miss Carter's funeral did not deem any of these things necessary. But he felt he would not have been able to do otherwise as a Phantomhive butler.

Her body had been so cold after she had died. So cold and limp, like a porcelain doll. After killing her, Sebastian had left her to attend to his master, and by the time he and the Earl returned to where she lay, several constables were on the scene. From there, the usual procedure occurred, followed by the public relief that the Butcher was done with her grisly career once and for all. When they loaded her body onto a cart to be taken away, Sebastian had to fight an urge to touch her once more. He still did, even though she was to be buried soon, six feet underground.

For she was his mate.

 _No,_ growled Sebastian, _she cannot be. She is dead. If she had been my mate, then…_

If she had _truly_ been Sebastian's mate, then he would have never been able to bear the thought that he had caused her harm. And that he had killed her…well, his heart should be tearing itself apart in a sorrow that would make all devils weep.

Sebastian had seen what the loss of a mate, even one barely known, could do to a demon. It was a madness – the only one a demon could know aside from hunger. This had happened to one such demon Sebastian knew and she had nearly torn herself apart in grief. Among demons it was rare for any of them to find their mate, let alone enjoy a so called 'happily ever after' with them. Sebastian supposed it could be compared with the sentimental ideal of 'true love' for humans. And the course of true love, as it is said, never did run smoothly.

For to a demon, a mate was an obsession. A reason. A passion that burned forever.

To find yours was to be completed and weakened at the same time. At first touch a demon could recognize their mate, and from that moment on be bound to them for eternity. It mattered little who the mate was, be they human or demon or even angel.

But for a Huntress to be mate to a demon…no. Sebastian would deny it. He would deny his very instincts against such a repulsive idea. True, Miss Carter had fascinated him. Her and her pure soul entertained him until the very last, and he would admit to admiring her secretarial skills. But that was all. Nothing more. He should be feeling pleased to have been the one to end her, such as one is when the last insect of an infestation has been crushed by one's boot heel. She and her kind were gone for good, and the images of her death that constantly replayed in his mind should be a source of amusement rather than… _regret_ …

Sebastian felt his left hand clench into a fist. He could still feel her. Her little heart breaking under his claws. It was fragile and small, just as she was when he held her. The feeling of her haunted him still, but Sebastian knew it would pass. A fascination, that was all, one that would die with time. She was not his mate. She could never possibly be his mate, no matter how urgently his instincts claimed otherwise...

"A shame, isn't it?"

A voice spoke up beside Sebastian and his master. They had thought to be the only ones in attendance, but now it appeared the Undertaker had come to admire his work. His usual smirk was barely visible beneath his crooked hat.

"A funeral is the last great ceremony in a human's life. A grim gala, if you will. And yet...no one showed for this dear lady's day."

"She appeared to have little ties to this world." The Earl Phantomhive replied in a nonchalant voice.

"And I made such a beautiful coffin too. One fit for a beautiful lady." Undertaker pouted as he ran a hand over the smooth wood of the coffin's lid, and Sebastian felt himself stiffen, "Makes me wonder what she meant to you, little Earl, for you to give her such a fine farewell. She was quite a _mess_ after all, took all day to pretty her up."

The Earl was intent on not answering the Undertaker, instead choosing to concentrate on what the priest prattled on about. This didn't discourage the Undertaker any.

"Wouldn't have to do with the Butcher now, would it?" He said with a giggle, "The news has spread itself all over London. I heard the Butcher did _things_ to his victims. To their hearts. I prodded around poor Miss Carter, and it seemed her heart had nearly been ripped out. But something slowed the killer's hand from finishing the job, as if he regretted to hurt such a frail thing, but only too late...heh, it's almost funny."

At this, the young lord glanced towards Sebastian. For the past two days while they recovered from the closure of the Butcher case, he had acted strangely. Tense almost. Ciel could not say why. He knew that Miss Carter riled the demon's nerves, as no doubt a demon slayer would, but…had he really regretted Miss Carter's death? Ciel could not safely dismiss or credit the idea.

"It hardly matters now. The Butcher is gone." He said, continuing to watch Sebastian. The Undertaker frowned, bringing his hands to his face in a mock show of surprise.

"Oh? Shame. I liked his work."

"For as much as it has pleased Almighty to take out of this world the soul of Vivian Carter, we therefore commit her body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that blessed hope when the Divine shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangels..." Finally finished the priest. Undertaker then took up a shovel.

"That's my cue."

The Undertaker came forward, and summoning a few lackeys he had hired, began the process of lowering Miss Carter's coffin into the ground. Sebastian watched carefully, claws biting into the palm of his clenched hand when one of the idiot lackeys dropped Miss Carter roughly into the grave.

"Come. Let's return home now, Sebastian." The Earl Phantomhive ordered as he began to turn towards the carriage. Sebastian hesitated just a moment, long enough to see the first shovel of dirt rain down on Miss Carter's coffin, before too turning away.

"Yes...my lord."

* * *

 _…Ten Days Later…Late November…_

Sebastian stood in the middle of the kitchen, his normally self-possessed demeanor compromised by his twitching annoyance at the three servants in front of him. They stood there, as guilty as sin, looking anywhere but at him.

"Would someone mind telling me how all of the crystal glasses... _melted_?" Sebastian asked, his voice laced with dark threats for any stupidity that dare answer him.

"Oh, that? That's a long story." Baldroy began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His blond hair was singed into a puffy afro, and the other two did not look any better.

"Then tell it quickly." Scowled Sebastian.

Baldroy shrugged his shoulders, wearing a sheepish face.

"Well, see, we wanted to do something to help out with dinner. But since it's already roasting in the over, we figured that we should get the dinnerware set up!"

Sebastian glanced towards the oven. Yes, the Spinach and Mushroom-Stuffed Beef Tenderloin with Truffle Wine Sauce was safely roasting, and soon enough it would be time to make the Sage-Butter Mashed Potatoes to accompany it – a perfect meal for an autumn day. However, he still had yet to see the connection to the glasses.

"And I happened to notice the glasses were foggy, yes I did!" Mey-Rin continued.

Ah, there it is.

"So we figured we'd wash them. A few broke…but then the rest were still foggy! So I figured maybe a little heat would help. So I took out my flamethrower and-"

"And I asked if it could give it a go!" Interrupted Finnian, "But Baldroy said no, and–"

"Enough!" Sebastian shouted over them. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, understanding now how this mess came about. It was like watching a train derail itself.

"I swear, you three are the most incompetent servants in the whole of England! A wooden frying pan would be more useful than the lot of you!" Sebastian growled in irritation, making the three in front of him shudder.

"Except for Tanka, of course." He praised the small man sitting in the corner. At the very least, Tanka knew how to stay out of the way, and was quite useful when he had the energy. Tanka sipped his tea peacefully, unaffected when an aura of malice surrounded the demon as he turned once more back onto the terrible trio.

"Now, you three are going to clean this place up or so help me, I will make you regret the minute you were born into this world!"

"YES SIR!" They yelped in fright, practically leaping into action.

The demon let them fumble about, as he knew any effort on their part to clean the kitchen would only serve to distract them at best. He would attend to the mess in a moment, but as of now Sebastian was late in serving his master his afternoon tea. Picking up the tray – which thankfully had been out of the flamethrower's reach – Sebastian left the kitchen.

Since returning to the Phantomhive manor, Sebastian would have to say that business had relatively returned to normal. The servants were still useless, the young master was still failing in his dancing lessons, and the weekly assassination attempt had been stifled. Time was passing as it always had when the Earl was waiting in-between cases – slowly and chaotically. The incident in the kitchen was proof of this, as it wouldn't feel like a typical day at the Phantomhive manor without Baldroy lighting _something_ on fire.

But this time something was different. Something that was askew, like a crooked frame on an otherwise immaculate painting.

That something was Sebastian.

Since returning to London, Sebastian's mood had been…foul, of late. Not that he had compromised his standing as a Phantomhive butler by allowing any ill humor to show or effect his duties. Never. And while the operations of the Phantomhive manor ran as smoothly as ever, the aura about the demonic butler was beginning to take its toll. The shadows of the manor seemed alive with the emotion that he refused to express, and the slightest vexation demanded even more patience from the demon. He almost felt, for lack of a better word, fatigued…for _she_ was never far from him. The idea of her, the memories, haunted the edge of his mind at all times, exhausting him with the thought of 'what if'.

 _What if…what if indeed. There is no need to toy with such a notion. It is pointless, one way or another. For she is dead. It doesn't do to keeping wondering what if she was my mate–_

A knock at the main doors of the Phanthomhive manor made Sebastian pause. Turning from the main stairs, he set aside the tea tray, straightened his vest, and answered.

"A letter to the Earl Phantomhive. From the Queen." Spoke a young gentleman dressed in all white. Sebastian grinned cordially, and accepted the letter with a bow.

"Yes, of course."

The interaction with the messenger was brief, and soon enough Sebastian was at the door to his young master's study. He knocked, waited until he was bid to enter, and then opened the door.

"Your afternoon tea, my lord. Today we have wild berry charlotte cake paired with blackcurrant tea." Sebastian announced, setting the tray down on the Earl's desk. The young lord set aside the papers he had been examining, eyeing the cake. But he was quickly distracted from his sweet when Sebastian showed him the letter.

"And a letter from the Queen has arrived as well."

"Oh?"

The Earl Phanthomhive took the letter and read it while Sebastian poured him his cup of tea. From the corner of his eye, Sebastian frowned at the latest piece to be added as 'decoration' to the study.

Resting on top of the mantle of the fire place was the Huntress's sword – clashing with the tastefully chosen china pieces on display. After the Butcher case had closed, the young master confiscated the sword. In his words, it only made sense to keep close a weapon capable of ending a demon so that no one else might use it to try and separate Sebastian from his master again. Sebastian was highly doubtful of this 'precaution', rather, he was certain the young master enjoyed seeing his demon on edge every time he glanced at it. Though, it was not for fear of his own person that made him so dislike the displayed weapon…

 _She reached out, and Sebastian wondered if she would try and strike him, but she only grabbed at his jacket collar to support herself. She wanted to die standing._

 _"T-too slow, wasn't I?" Miss Carter smiled up at him, a smile that even now haunted him, as her whole body shivered to hold on a little longer…_

"Well, it appears that we may be going on holiday."

Sebastian – pushing aside the unbidden image of Miss Carter – glanced up at his master in surprise.

"A holiday, young master? In this season?"

It was nearing the end of November, hardly the appropriate time for any kind of holiday.

"Yes, indeed." Answered the young master, taking a sip of his tea before setting it back down into the saucer, "Tell me, have you ever heard of a past time know as bear baiting?"

"The notion does sound entertaining, but I'm afraid I've not heard of it. Indulge me sir?"

"A bear is chained to a fence. It is then surrounded by vicious dogs which slowly bite and kill it."

"That sounds like something that only a human would dream up." Sebastian spoke with an amused tone. Truly, the cruelty of humans knew no bounds. He almost admired their creativity.

"It was banned back in 1835 when the 'Cruelty to Animals Act' was instated. However there was still a loop hole. The attack dogs they used were not banned. So a new game developed."

Sebastian pondered this, putting his hand to his chin. "They used dogs to attack dogs? Let's see…would that be dog baiting?"

The young lord nodded before picking up the slice of cake.

"There's a village in which it's quite popular, known as Houndsworth. It has long been known for raising fierce hunting dogs, but they take it further." Ciel, taking a bite of the cake, then cast a grim look at the opened envelope that lay on his desk, "It break's her majesty's heart. So we'll secure the village as land for a royal estate. A simple pretext to end the atrocities."

"A village full of dogs?" Sebastian asked, not at all liking the sound of this. If his mood was affected before, this was surely the straw that would break the demon's back – so to speak. This was not going to be a pleasantry, by any means or shape.

Ciel, sensing the dislike in the demon's voice, rose a suspicious eyebrow.

"Yes, why?"

Sebastian placed his hand on his heart, and lowered his head.

"Well, please forgive me, master. This seems as rather insignificant task for one of your station to take on." He worded carefully. While his young lord was a master worthy of a demon as himself, he did have a rather nasty habit of enjoying any torment he could inflict on the demon. If he ever found out how strongly he hated dogs, well…

"Sebastian." Reproved the young master, interlacing his fingers together and giving his butler a scrutinizing glare, "You should know by now that I have my reasons. This is indeed a task fit for a Phantomhive…"

Sebastian, knowing that he had overstepped his bounds as a butler, bowed to the Earl.

"Yes, of course, my young master."

"You will make preparations at once."

At his dismissal, Sebastian cleaned up the remnants of the young lord's tea, and departed. As soon as the door to the study shut behind him, the demon allowed for a scowl to settle on his face. He could think of nothing possibly worse than going to a village full of _mutts_. No. By every possible means, this was without a doubt going to be a torment rather than a holiday. He felt a pang in his chest already. Idly, a hand reached up to touch the space above where Miss Carter had stabbed him.

 _"Really?" She spat up at him hatefully, "I find you move too slow."_

Taking a fortifying breath, Sebastian set himself to the task of preparing for their trip. If anything, he might hope that it would at the very least offer him some distraction, even an unpleasant one...

* * *

A day after the letter arrived, the entire Phantomhive household was packed and ready to make their journey to Houndsworth. Sebastian drove the first carriage in which the young master was seated, followed by a cart driven by Tanka carrying their luggage as well as the remaining staff. Hours of driving by beautiful countryside lifted the spirits of the servants, and for ages they had been humming and singing to themselves in an off-key manner.

"Holiday! Holiday! Holiday! We're going on holiday! Holiday! Holiday! Holiday! We're going on holiday!"

"This is so exciting! I can't believe it!" Exclaimed Finny, finally ending the song.

"Spectacular!" Agreed Mey-Rin, "He's actually bringing us! We get to on holiday at the Queen's own resort!"

"Looks like the young master can be quite generous when the spirit moves him, eh?" Asked Baldroy, and the other two enthusiastically nodded their heads.

"Hm-mh!"

"Do you hear how happy they are? They're very grateful to you," Commented Sebastian, glancing back at his master slyly, "Such a kind young master."

Ciel, having been bored and tired for most of the journey, huffed in reply, "I couldn't leave them there alone. I might return to find the manor in shambles."

The demon, conjuring images of a decimated estate, had to emphatically agree with his master's wise decision.

"Indeed."

Sebastian of course, knew that this was not his master's only reason in bringing all the Phantomhive staff with him. They were, after, useful in their little ways. Perhaps this case was one that required more caution than the others before. As much as Sebastian did not like being left in the dark, he could wait patiently for his master to explain the situation fully. Sebastian still refused to believe the Queen's Guard Dog had been sent to deal with only animal cruelty. Seemed such a small thing in comparison to their last few cases.

Time continued to roll on, and the green hills turned into bleak grey-washed things covered in mist. Trees became rare and twisted, as if a fire had occurred long ago and the ashes still remained. Sebastian could smell a body of water ahead, and suspected they were soon to reach their destination. When a sign saying 'Welcome to Houndsworth' with a spiked collar and an idle crow sitting on top of it came their way, Sebastian knew he was right.

"It seems we've arrived at the village everyone." Sebastian announced, momentarily stopping the carriage. He glanced around suspiciously, from the barren hills to the gnarled dead tree decorated with dog collars and chains.

 _There is something…something in the air in this place._

"Alright!" Shouted the servants, peering around them excitedly. Their disappointment soon became audible at the decrepit and creepy landscape that surrounded them.

"AAAAHHH?!"

"Oh, yes." Ciel smirked, "I forgot to mention something. The resort that the Queen is planning has yet to be constructed."

The servants, apart from Tanaka, slouched back into their seats, teary eyed and disappointed.

"Yes, master."

"Ho…ho…"

They drove on. Sebastian's feeling of trepidation did not waver. There was certainly something here, something he disliked immensely. Another demonic presence? No, it was no demon, though it was strongly similar. Malevolent and immortal, and most certainly going to be trouble. Without the order, Sebastian retracted his own demonic presence. Until he and his master knew what they were dealing with, it would be best to remain undetected. Of course, Sebastian would not bother to mention this to the young master, not unless he was asked. They would deal with it accordingly and in their own time. There was a chance that it had nothing to do with the case, but this was highly doubtful. After all, trouble was never far from the Earl Phantomhive and his brood…

"Look! Somebody actually lives here!" Shouted Finnian, pointing towards an old woman up ahead, "Tanka, stop!"

Finnian leapt out of the cart, and running over to the woman whose pram was stuck in a ditch, he smiled. Sebastian and Ciel watched warily.

"Let me help you granny!"

"No! You shouldn't do that Finny! If you're not careful you might hurt the baby!" Warned Mey-Rin, but it was already too late.

"What did you say?" Asked Finnian as he lifted the pram into the air above his head. His expression became panicked when he saw that once again his immense strength had caused trouble. He – roughly – put the pram down and shouted, "I'm so sorry!"

"Is the baby okay?!" Asked Mey-Rin as she and Baldroy rushed over, peering into the pram. Instead of a healthy baby, they were greeted with a swaddled dog's skeleton.

"AAAAHHH!"

"There is no baby. There is not baby any more. It was eaten…" Mourned the old woman, turning her pram around. An eerie tune took up the air as she began to walk away, leaving the servants dumbfounded and terrified.

"The white dog is a good dog, a good dog, good! The black dog is a bad dog, bad dog, bad!"

"Eaten…?"

"…wha?"

"That's why we're here." Explained Ciel airily with a glance towards Sebastian, "Apparently a lot of the villagers have been violently killed or gone missing. The village has shrunk to a third of its size in the last ten years. A part of my task is to find out why…and put an end to the problem."

Sebastian nodded, and smiling to himself he urged the horses forward. So that was it then. Murder. Of course it was always murder. But now Sebastian was fully informed of the situation. Perhaps if it became relevant he would tell the young lord about the presence he sensed, but for now Sebastian amused himself with the possibilities. The presence grew stronger as they came to a hill, offering them a view of the village finally. It was shabby, even from a distance, the homes and buildings remnant of the Tudor period with their limestone wall and thatched roofs. The only saving grace was the clear blue waters of the lake it resided beside. It glimmered in the dim light of the afternoon, catching the eyes of the servants.

"Wow!"

"It's starting to look like a place worth staying!"

Within the hour they were driving through the village as the church bells chimed as if to signal the alarm of strangers approaching. Sebastian had been right about its state, clearly a village left behind by time. Even the people were worn down, casting the Earl and company suspicious glances. They certainly were not welcomed. Sebastian was not the least phased, but the amount of dogs being walked or howling within their kennels made the hackles of his neck rise. Passing by one fenced home a young man with curling brown hair was training his hound.

"Sit…lie down…" He commanded, and the dog eagerly obeyed. The young man kneeled then and hugged the animal. "Who's a good boy? My good boy!"

"Oh my! I'd let him pet me, yes I would! Ah!" Mey-Rin exclaimed behind them. Sebastian did not find the scene half so endearing.

"He manipulates the creature with rewards and punishments. He commands the mutt's obedience…but the dog isn't blameless either." He sneered. Such mindless instinct for affection, for confirmation, was pathetic. Loyalty for the sake of being loyal, and obedience in exchange for affection. Sebastian fairly bristled at the thought.

"It fawns over its human, and welcomes the chain around its neck. I can't understand it…"

The parallels were not lost on the demon. This was perhaps why he had always hated dogs, as their nature was opposite to demons in every aspect…except in one. When a demon found their mate, there was little difference in the bonds between a master and dog or a demon and their mate. To have a mate was to be tamed, to welcome a leash and chain. To be weak in exchange for a sentimental attachment. Sebastian never looked at a mated demon with any kind of jealousy, in fact, he found them to have become passive in terms of company. All they ever wished was to be with their mate, even in the middle of a wild feast, there was still a part of them that wanted to rush back to their mate's side. To simper and praise them, offer them riches and fantasies fulfilled, all in exchange for a smile or a touch, a kiss or a laugh…

Such docility, such tameness, was appalling. True, Sebastian took pride in serving his masters well, but that was in exchange for their souls, which in turn would satisfy his hunger. And hunger was very much a real thing. A need. Not something so tenuous, so vague, as affection or an emotional bond. Such things were foreign to demons, all demons, until they had been cursed with the discovery of their mates. True, Sebastian could feel for the demons that had lost their mates, as he felt it comparable to the loss of a delicious soul. But never had he envied what they had lost. They spoke of passion, of reason outside of hunger, but the appeal was lost on Sebastian. True, he evolved as they did from wildly feasting to carefully selecting his souls with contracts. But to commit so much to one individual, to hang on their words, to beg for a glance, a touch, and be satisfied with nothing more was a madness he would not take part in.

Which was why Sebastian's instincts calling out for Miss Carter would die with time. He knew this to be true. She was dead, and thus the whole of it was pointless. But even more so, he was now considering himself to be quite fortunate that she was. He had never been one to be tamed, and so without a mate he would remain so. Miss Carter's death was if anything an assurance. His mate or no, she was gone, and now finally was the idea of 'what if'. It hardly mattered one way or another to him. Sebastian was now almost glad to have come to this hound infested place, if just to be reminded of himself. His instincts would die in time, for he was more than them.

He, after all, was a demon with aesthetic. A butler first and a devil second…

 _She was curled upon the bed asleep, her legs tucked to her chest like a child. When he reached for her face the warmth of her skin reached him through his glove. For something so powerful - powerful enough to kill twelve demons - her skin was soft. The shiver of a peculiar sensation came over him, convincing Sebastian to grace the length of her neck with his gloved fingers. When he reached her collar bone, she shifted towards his touch, as if silently pleading for more. The notion made him chuckle, waking the sleeping Huntress and-_

"If you're trying to get at something deeper, just say it." Frowned Ciel, interrupting the demon's thoughts. He had been watching Sebastian, and could see from the way his back stiffened that something was troubling him. For a demon to be troubled Ciel could hardly keep from becoming curious.

Sebastian turned to his master with a smile - swearing then and there to never again think on the wretched woman that was Miss Carter.

"No, it's nothing of import my lord. Simply, while I love cats, I'm not especially fond of dogs." He explained, catching the villagers watching him and his master from the windows in the corner of his eye, "To be completely frank, I hate them."

The young Earl overlooked the demon, and then smirked.

"…woof."

Sebastian could feel his brow twitch in annoyance.

 _Brat._

Soon, the Phantomhive household had made its way to the top of another hill overlooking the village where the mayor's castle resided. Lord Barrymore was ruler over this place, and would be their most troublesome obstacle. If the rumors about him were true, then he was a very stubborn and hostile man. He had never once appeared in court or in London for the season, and was known to be unwelcoming of strangers in his village and home. This, of course, would be where they were to stay. It was a small building, more of a summer house than a castle, but it was just as drab and dreary as the village. A young woman, with a purple dress and large apron, stepped outside the main doors. For a startled moment, Sebastian thought of Miss Carter when he saw the young woman's hair – but no. Miss Carter's hair was pure as snow and milk. This woman's light hair was dulled, silver, like a grey cloud.

Sebastian decided to strongly dislike the woman. This decision was fixed when he stopped the carriage before her, and a sensation of revulsion took root.

 _Is she…no. She is not a Huntress. But there is a disturbing amount of, well…cleanliness, I suppose, emanating from her._

"I presume this is the Earl of Phantomhive?" She asked with a smile that was disquieting to the demon.

"Yes." Sebastian answered her, catching the amethyst hue in her eyes. Yes, definitely Sebastian did not like this woman.

"Welcome to Barrymore Castle."

"Hey…" Whistled Baldroy, catching a view of the maid. Mey-Rin was equally charmed, and Finnian looked about ready to faint.

"Oh! She's lovely, yes she is!"

"I am Angela, head maid here." The maid, Angela, curtseyed before the Earl as he stepped down from the carriage, "If it pleases you, my lord, your servants may take your luggage up to your room. I know you must wish to rest after so long of a journey, but my master is eager to meet you."

Ciel considered this, and nodded. Best to meet his unwilling host first, then deal with the dust of the road on his clothes.

"Yes, of course."

Angela then pointed to the side of the house, looking towards the servants as she did so.

"The guest bedroom is the fifth door to the right up the stairs. There are rooms prepared in the servants' quarters below for each of you as well. There is a door around back through the kitchen that will take you there."

"All right, thanks!" Cheered Baldroy as he took the reins to the carriage from Sebastian. He and the others made their way to the servants' entrance and stable. Sebastian hoped they would be able to manage such simple tasks as taking the luggage up and securing the horses, but it was a small hope at best.

"This way." Smiled Angela.

As the Earl and Sebastian entered the castle, they were hardly surprised to see the inside matched the depressive exterior. The inside of the castle was old, feeling the weight of its years. There are weapons and shields decorating the walls, remnants of past glories no doubt. They were led to a room that quite shocked the pair of them. Mounted on every wall were the heads of animals – from bears, to dogs, to boars. Their teeth were bared and sharpened, their glass eyes glinting darkly. Ciel looked a bit uneasy with the scene, and Sebastian shared the sentiment.

 _This is quite tacky. Honestly, what is the appeal of all these empty trophies staring at one while eating or–_

"Who the hell is this Chihuahua?! I told you to bring me the Queen's Guard dog when he arrived!" Shouted someone across the room. Sebastian and the Earl looked over as man dressed in hunting boots and plaid pants with muttonchops and impossibly thick eyebrows took out a whip and striked at Angela. With a scream she fell to her knees, covering her face.

"Chihuahua…?" Muttered Sebastian while the Earl beside him flinched in shock at the insult and the scene before him.

"Can't you do anything?!" Continued to holler the man – obviously Lord Barrymore – as Angela whimpered and cried out as the whip continued to crack over her.

"Move, Sebastian." Commanded the Earl once he had recovered himself. Accepting the order, the demon appeared quickly behind Lord Barrymore, and restrained his hand from striking again.

"What are you doing you filthy Doberman?! Somebody should train you better!" The mayor squalled, struggling against Sebastian to no avail. "Let me go right now!"

Sebastian restrained a twitch of irritation.

 _Doberman, eh? How rude._

"He's acting on my orders." Explained the Earl, his voice the essence of superiority. He removed his hat and set it and his cane upon the table, welcoming himself to a chair at the table.

"Who are you?" Lord Barrymore growled.

"From the sound of it you have already received the letter I sent. My name is Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive." He announced. By the furrow of his brow, he was still very annoyed with the man who had failed to make a good impression on him. Sebastian, catching the subtle nod from his master, finally released the mayor. The man dropped his wrist before him, cradling it as he scowled at the Earl.

"Do you mean to tell me a toy poodle like you is the Queen's emissary?"

"You don't like small breeds Lord Henry? Now that's hardly fair." Ciel smirked, making the man's scowl run deeper at the impertinent use of his first name. The young master reclined in his chair as if he owned this castle, as well as the mayor, heart and soul. While Lord Barrymore struggled to contain himself, Angela finally managed to stand herself back up.

"Sir, I will bring the tea now." She announced meekly.

"Fine!" Barked Lord Barrymore, "And see what that useless Maltese is up to!"

Angela nodded and left hurriedly, leaving the men behind. Sebastian stepped over to his master to help take off his cloak, taking it, his hate, and his cane over to a coat rack in the corner.

"Forgive me welcoming you here in my dining room. I hired someone to organize my family records in the library and study where I normally greet _guests_." Sneered Lord Barrymore as he sat opposite the Earl. By the way he said the last word, it was quite clear he meant _unwelcomed_ guests. Ciel though was unphased, and even slightly amused by the man's aggression. It would be such a boring chore for the Queen if there wasn't a little opposition to be had.

"That is quite alright. We may discuss the price of Barrymore Castle just as well here."

In the silence that followed, Sebastian took out and laid before Lord Barrymore some paper work that the Earl had kept with him. They were simple legal proclamations as well as bids for the land and castle he owned. A warning, in essence, as well as a temptation, as the price being offered for the lands and holdings was printed in bold and contained quite a number of zeros. Barrymore looked them over with a scowl, but remained quiet.

Angela returned in time with a rolling tea cart. She set herself up beside Sebastian, and shakily attempted to pour the tea. The effort was too much for her, and so not wanting to have to deal with a blunder, Sebastian stepped close to whisper to her.

"Please miss, allow me."

She allowed him with a meek nod, and silently Sebastian took over making tea for the two Lords.

"There is nothing to discuss." Snarled Lord Barrymore as he finally set the papers back down on the table, "Under no circumstances will I sell Barrymore Castle to anybody."

"Why is that?"

"Because of the curse." Barrymore announced darkly. Ciel narrowed his eyes in challenge.

"Oh? What curse?"

"This village and its dogs have existed for centuries. Anyone who interferes with us will be cursed…in a most horrible way." Lord Barrymore stood then, trying to intimidate the young lord by slamming his hands down upon the table, "Even the Queen cannot lift the curse! Your mission is pointless! Anyone who acts against the wishes of the Barrymore family is destined to meet an unimaginably terrible end!"

Ciel broke his eyes away from the man chuckle quietly to himself. So, disappearing villagers and now a curse? How strange he always seemed to come across so many elements of the supernatural in his chores for the Queen. It made him wonder what he would discover with this little misadventure.

"My. How interesting." He commented as he took a sip of the tea offered him.

"What?!" Shouted Barrymore, shocked at the Earl's nonchalant response. Ciel clasped his hands together and leaned forward on the table.

"You've peeked my curiosity. I'd like to see this dreadful curse of yours Lord Henry." His tone was mocking, and Lord Barrymore gnashed his teeth in hatred. He looked ready to bite off the Earl's head off. Sebastian could not help but compare him to the mutts he was so fond of. His young master was going to delight in infuriating this man at every turn. Why, if–

"Lord Barrymore?" Asked a voice so familiar that Sebastian and Ciel both went still in shock. They, as well as Barrymore and Angela, turned towards a young woman who now stood in the doorway. Her face was hidden behind a stack of papers she was reviewing, but around it her hair – _as white and as pure as snow, as milk_ – could be seen.

 _No…it cannot be…_

"Angela said you wished to see me. I've brought down a few documents that might be of interest to…you…" The young woman trailed off, finally seeing Sebastian and the Earl. Her face, oval and pale, held a set of blue eyes that became as wide as dish plates behind a pair of glasses as she recognized them. Her dress was modest and high collared, her heeled boots sensible, and there was even a careless splatter of ink on her cheek. It was as if time had turned itself to bring her back for Sebastian's torment.

Sebastian could feel something – _his heart?_ \- shudder in relief at the sight before him.

Miss Carter was alive. Miss Carter, whose heart he had nearly torn from her chest, whose funeral he had attended, was now standing in front of him. Her supple body shivered in recognition, her small gloved hands shook a little, and her scent – sweet and sickly, like dying roses – was a contrast to everything the demon had believed. She was alive. She was breathing, moving, _alive_. And she was just as shocked as he and his young master was to see her.

 _It…it is._

"Miss…Carter…?" Asked Ciel, rising from his chair in astonishment. The woman paled even more, her lips going white as if she might faint. Sebastian stepped towards her unconsciously, his instincts screaming to touch her, to make certain she was real. She was alive. His mate was–

"What is it you want Miss Clark?" Barked Lord Barrymore, breaking the spell over the demon and his master. Sebastian managed to tear his gaze away from Miss Carter to see Lord Barrymore eye him and his master suspiciously.

"Huh? Do you three know one another?"

Miss Carter snapped to attention with a shake of her head. She squared her shoulders, and with a determination unsurpassed, she walked past the demon and his master. She passed by Sebastian close enough that he only would have to reach out a hand to graze the satin of her dress. It was only by the iron of his will he did not.

"I am sad to say I do not have the pleasure of being acquainted with these gentlemen." She smiled at Sebastian and the Earl, as if this was a pleasant first meeting.

 _My mate…my mate smiling…alive…no. Not my mate. But she...she is alive._

"Then, Earl Phantomhive may I present Miss Clark, my personal secretary." Hurriedly introduced Lord Barrymore as Ciel managed to sit himself back down.

"Recently hired I imagine?" He asked with a raised brow, glancing towards Sebastian to share a curious look. Ciel was completely lost for answers, but given by the blatant bewilderment that was written across the demon's face he was as well. Deciding to humor the situation, Ciel collected himself.

"My apologies then, Miss _Clark_ ," He said with a polite smile, "You simply reminded me of someone I met in London."

"Oh? I'm afraid I've never been there before sir." She replied nervously as Ciel rose an impassive brow at her.

"Really?"

"Enough of this." Interrupted Lord Barrymore, "I tell you, there is no point to your visit. Leave now while you still can."

"Oh, no. My curiosity was peeked before, but now...it's is quite captured." Ciel gave Miss Carter a meaningful look, before gesturing around them all, "And by the looks things, you should really consider the Queen's proposal. It is really too generous for this shabby castle. And since nothing grows here, I can imagine you and the village of Houndsworth are in a lot of debt since you must buy all your supplies from the neighboring villages. I'd say it's only a matter of a few hours before you accept my offer."

Standing, Ciel decided it was time to leave. He needed to speak with Sebastian about this latest development. Too many questions ran through his mind. It would hardly do to take up a new case when an old one had suddenly reared itself back into his life.

"In the meantime, I am going to retire to my room. I shall see you for dinner Lord Henry...Miss Clark." He announced slyly, standing and turning towards the door.

Sebastian, to his credit, recovered remarkably well. He bowed to Lord Barrymore and turned to gather his master's effects from the coat rack. At the door however, he glanced back over his shoulder towards Miss Carter. Catching her eye, he smirked, showing off his sharped canines maliciously. She stiffened, and Sebastian could hear the erratic rhythm of her heart – somehow still beating – pick up in tempo. He turned from her to follow after his master, one word ringing through his head frantically.

 _Alive. Alive. She is alive. Miss Carter, alive. Alive…_

* * *

As the Earl Phantomhive and his demonic butler left, Vivian came to realize she had the worst luck in all the world.

 _Oh, Divine help me. Help. Please? No? Oh, god…oh, god, please…_

"That stubborn Chihuahua. Obviously he was not trained to respect his betters." Snarled Lord Barrymore, barely heard by Vivian through her panicked thoughts.

She wringed her gloved hands nervously, her heart ready to fly from her chest at any second now. How could she have not sensed the demon? Was it because of the malevolent presence that ruled over the village overpowered the butler's own? No…no, the butler was hiding his demonic presence again. That's how he was able to get so close – a _second_ time – without her noticing. And to think she had learned her lesson the first time.

He was here. He had found her again, so soon after her second chance at life. Why was he here? Oh, god. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh–

"Angela, get going on dinner. Something refined for that Poodle's delicate palate. Miss Clark, I hired you to find the contract. Where is it?"

Vivian jumped to attention. Helpless, she gave her new employer a bashful smile.

"Sir, it is going to take a little more time. I am only just searched half of the library. It may take a few more days-"

"No excuses!" He howled at her, his teeth bared, "I want that document found, or you can forget your pay!"

With that, Lord Barrymore marched his way out, snarling like some kind of beast.

"I think I miss my old employer." Vivian muttered. Glancing towards Angela, Vivian's internal panic was quelled when she noticed the welts on the maid's hands. They were angry and red, and _new_.

"Angela, you've been hurt. What happened?" She asked, stepping close to place a concerned hand on the maid's shoulder. Angela, as if burned by her touch, shifted away from her.

"I deserved it." She explained, before narrowing her eyes at Vivian, "Pardon my saying so, but it seemed to me that you knew those gentlemen. The butler especially."

Vivian suppressed a grimace. She and Angela had gotten along rather well these past few days since her hiring, but Vivian by no means trusted her.

"I don't know them." She dismissed sternly, "And...I may be leaving for town in a few minutes for an errand."

"Oh? What for?" Angela asked curiously, but Vivian was already gone.

She was marching up the stairs before she knew where her legs where taking her.

Where could she go? The presence of the demon, invisible before, was now spreading itself. No doubt for her benefit. The demon was delighting over this, over discovering her. He would kill her again, Vivian knew he would. He had barely managed to contain himself when his master was present, or maybe he had been forced still by his own shock at seeing her. It hardly mattered, for he was sure to kill her now any way. For all their faults, demons were not ones to leave things unfinished.

Vivian was in the library of Barrymore castle before she knew where she was going. Perhaps it was instinct, for in this room only she felt at ease. Her mind had been in a fog the past week since she had – well, _revived_ – and it was hardly helpful now. She needed to run. She needed to hide. She needed to find a weapon. But her body was too weak to run, the village too small to hide herself away in, and she was weaponless. She didn't even know where her sword was, let alone what else she could possibly grab to defend herself at this moment.

 _I need to leave at any rate. Why are they even here? Wait…oh, god. Angela said something yesterday about an Earl visiting, looking to buy the castle…but why the Earl Phantomhive? Why the demon butler? Why? Why? Why? Why? Damn! Ballocks, damn, ballocks, shit, shit, shit, damn, damn, ballocks, damn, shit, why!?_

Vivian forced herself to calm down, ignoring her heart that was close to bursting. Surely, she had not survived this long to lose her head now. There was only one option before her; she needed to run. Or try to at least. Opening the only window in the library, Vivian judged the distance to the ground. Normally the height would be nothing for her, but given that she was still recovering from the last time she had come across the demon butler, it might be more than she could handle. But she had little choice now.

 _Right. Jump out the window. Somehow survive. Run. Run far, far away. Good plan. Good._

"I believe it is through here, my lord."

The door behind Vivian opened. Turning, she saw the demon and his master enter the library.

 _Oh…too slow..._

"Ah, yes, here we are. The library." Smiled the demon, his eyes instantly boring into Vivian's. She shuddered at the redness of them, the crimson blaze that scorched every part of her. Unconsciously, she reached for the space above her heart; clutching at the cloth over the scar the demon gave her when he had nearly ripped her heart out in a desperate effort to protect it.

"I believe you will be able to find something entertaining to read here. Lord Barrymore seems to have quite a collection."

"Yes. I wonder…" Pondered Earl Phantomhive as he glanced around before setting his eyes on Vivian with a knowing smirk, "Miss Carter? Or…is it Miss Clark? Might you have a recommendation for me?"

Vivian knew it was now or never. She had to run. She was in no condition to fight. She was still weak. She had only just _died_ little over a week ago. She very likely would be unable to out run the demon. But she still had to try. It was all she could do.

Vivian turned, and prepared to leap out of the window. She was perhaps half way free, when an arm wrapped itself around her waist.

Without giving her time to gasp, Vivian was pulled back inside and slammed against the wall beside the window. The air was knocked out of her and her vision swam with red and black. She clawed desperately in effort to put up a fight, but she only managed to grab at the collar of the demon's vest. The hand around her waist let go to slam itself by her head, blocking her from the window that was her only means of escape.

The demon fairly leered down at her as Vivian realized she was now pinned between his chest, arm, and the wall. She scarcely dared to breathe, else she would close the hairsbreadth of space between them. Her vision, focusing itself, was filled with the demon's red eyes. Red like blood, like fire. His voice was low and wicked - carnal in fact - as he leaned closer to smirk at her as a cat would at its captured prey.

"Now, now, Miss Carter. Surely you were not about to leave? My lord just asked you a question."

* * *

Oh, boy. I seem to have a thing for cliffhangers, don't I? No worries dearies, the next chapter is underway and will be up within a week. But what of this predicament, eh? Poor Sebastian, the moment he is over Vivi (as some of you lovely reviews are calling her, and I freaking love it! That, and Viv.) comes back into his life. Literally though, how did she come back to life?

Well, to answer that, join Vivian next time as she is forced to explain her miraculous resurrection and strikes a deal with the Earl Phantomhive. Afterwards, Sebastian is determined to discover if Vivian is truly his mate while the mystery of Houndsworth becomes more complex...

Thanks for all your reviews, favs, and follows so far! You are all such a bunch of dearies! Until next time then!


	6. Awaking in the Graveyard

**Chapter 6; Awaking in the Graveyard:**

Vivian could safely say, that this was the last position she expected to find herself in when she woke up this morning.

The demon was looming over her, pressing her into the wall and forcing her head back at a strenuous angle in order to meet his eyes. Vivian scarcely dared to blink, let alone breathe. If she did, then her chest would be flush against the demon's in a most humiliating way. Did he have no sense of boundaries? In the painful second it had taken for him to get her in this position, the eternity that followed after it was even more of a torment.

 _Well, this is a fine predicament I have gotten myself into._

"Well Miss Carter? Aren't you going to answer my lord?" Smiled the demon. His free hand reached up to her face. Vivian flinched, but there was little room for retreat. And so Vivian was helpless – and a little surprised – when the demon removed the false glasses that were part of her disguise. He crumpled then in his hand as if they offended him.

"He asked you for a recommendation."

Vivian's eyes wildly looked about her as if there was an answer to be found in a corner somewhere. What was the demon talking about? Ah, yes, he and his master had come in for a 'book recommendation'. Why couldn't they both be like normal villains and just get straight to the torture? No, they had to throw in a bit of finesse and gloat.

 _Damn this demon. Damn him. Damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN HIM!_

Sighing, Vivian nodded past the demon. If it meant she had longer to live, she might as well play along.

"On the table, there. The _Beeton's Christmas Annual_ that was just published. It contains the novel written by a man called Authur Conan Doyle, titled _A Study in Scarlet_. It's his first published fiction but it shows great promise and has a very intriguing lead."

The Earl Phantomhive strode over to the table, glancing over the paperback magazine curiously. It was Vivian's, which she had purchased a few days ago to pass the time while she traveled to Houndsworth. It was an entertaining mystery, although she hadn't yet finished it. Now it seemed she would never know the end of the story.

 _Priorities Vivian, priorities._

"I see. Well, hopefully it will live up to your praise." Smiled the young Earl as he grabbed for it.

"Now, call off your demon." Vivian growled, her voice more threatening than she could possibly live up to.

"Why? Are you going to try and break our seal again?"

Vivian could say nothing to this. The demon – and perhaps the Earl – knew as well as she that she was in no condition to do such a thing. She was hardly in condition to be standing. Her body had been weak in its attempt to recover, and now especially Vivian felt her knees about to give, though that might be out of fear. Yes, she was afraid. The demon seemed to revel in it, coaxing his demonic presence over her in an intimate fashion. He was trying to intimidate her, and it was working. It was also making her feel sick, so maybe if she was lucky she would get to retch on his polished shoes before he killed her.

"I must say, you are in remarkable shape. The last time I saw you, you were lying in a coffin, about to be buried." The Earl Phantomhive continued, surprising Vivian.

"You were at my funeral?"

"I _paid_ for it in fact. But now I expect a reimbursement, as it appears to have been a wasted kindness."

"Kindness?! Your demon killed me!" She shouted, finally looking back up at said demon with a glare as she hissed, "And then you buried me in that tacky dress!"

The demon towering above her smiled as if in humor, but Vivian momentarily wondered at the new emotion she saw in his eyes. Arrogance? No… _relief?_

"Yes, about that. I am rather curious as to how you survived such an incident. You were verified dead by Sebastian, several constables, and the Undertaker. To have fooled one person into believing you were dead, there is a chance you might have managed to pull it off. But so many? I'm very curious to hear your explanation." The Earl Phantomhive drolled on as if discussing the weather.

"I do not owe you any answers."

"No," The Earl arched a brow, "you owe me so much more."

Vivian bristled.

The boy was right. If he wanted her dead, she would be. In essence she owed him her life in this moment. If she had but a few more weeks to recover, maybe she might have stood a chance to fight the demon...but for now, she was completely at their mercy.

So then, information? Was that all they wanted? Vivian doubted it would be so simple, but if it stalled the inevitable, she was all for it. It might give her an opportunity to escape, as the Earl might not risk causing a scene if someone else were to come across them. Angela would be preparing dinner now, and soon would call for them all to come down. Less than an hour. She had to at least stall the inevitable for less than an hour. She could do that. She had to.

"Fine." Vivian conceded, "What do you want to know?"

To her surprise, the young Earl gestured at his demon as he sat down on one of the chairs at the table. Reluctantly, the demon pulled himself away from Vivian and went to his master's side. Vivian could not help but glance at the open window, but decided against it. She would never make it, and she doubted the demon would be 'gentle' with her a second time. At least he was away from her now, giving her a chance to breathe freely.

"Have a seat." The Earl motioned to the chair opposite the one he took. Vivian, with little choice, did as she was bid.

"We'll start simple. Are you following us?" Began the young Earl. Vivian had to admit, this was not the question she expected the boy to ask first. But then, he and his demon had a way of surprising her.

"No. Until a few minutes ago, I didn't even know either of you were coming. Lord Barrymore mentioned an Earl would be arriving to try and purchase the castle, but he didn't say who exactly and I - foolishly - never cared to find out."

The Earl nodded at her answer - not showing any sign that he did or did not believe her - and then pressed on.

"Why are you working for Barrymore?"

"Lord Barrymore had supplied me with the job of organizing his library and family records three days ago when I came to this village and advertised myself. He had hoped to find a document, some kind of contract made to one of his ancestors by royalty that would prevent your purchase of Barrymore Castle. So far I have had no luck, and I suspect that the contract doesn't exist. I need the money however, so I'll make this job last as long as I can." Vivian explained, biting her lip before hesitantly adding, "And…there is a _presence_ here as well. I have come to investigate it."

Vivian glanced towards the demon, and by the glint in his eyes, he seemed to know what she was talking about. No doubt he felt it too. There was another presence here, one not half as powerful as his own, but powerful enough. It wasn't a demon per say, but it was of the hellish realm.

"Ah," realized the young Earl, "this wouldn't have anything to do with Lord Barrymore's curse, would it?"

"Perhaps. There is a legend here about a Demon Hound. If it exists, I will kill it." Vivian explained airily, as if it didn't matter.

She did not expect the Earl to really believe her, but then, Vivian was not so certain of it herself. After all, it was just mere rumors that lead her here. She had heard of the Houndsworth curse a few years ago, and back then her father and the Order suspected that it might be worthwhile to look into. Vivian's abandoning the Order put a hitch in the works, but now she was here regardless. She had only been here for three days, most of them spent here in this library doing her work for Barrymore or recovering. She had little time or luck in tracking the demon hound so far, but she knew _something_ was here.

"With what weapon? We have your sword." Pressed the Earl, causing Vivian to jolt in surprise.

"What? Why?!" She shouted accusingly. The demon gave her a reproachful look.

"My master will be the one asking questions, Miss Carter."

Vivian slumped back into her chair in an unladylike manner, praying for patience. So that's where her sword had gone. She had wasted several days in London trying to find it, risking her health and life to even break into the evidence room of Scotland Yard to try and get it back. That she couldn't find it was why she was now here in the first place…

"I have my Divine powers. I can manage to hold my own." Vivian explained tiredly. Before her, the demon laughed.

"You've only just died and you're back to slaying demons again? My, my, such dedication." He mocked, and Vivian's hatred for the demon increased.

 _Damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him…_

"So then, it was coincidence that you are here at the same time we are…" The Earl smirked, "Only, I do not believe in coincidences."

Vivian pouted indignantly.

"Believe what you want, it's the truth. I hadn't even sensed your approach because your demon hid his demonic presence. That, and the malevolent aura here overpowers the entire countryside and makes it hard to distinguish one evil from another. It's like trying to tell the difference between sulfur and rotten eggs."

The demon narrowed his eyes at Vivian for her insult, but she ignored it. While all she said was the truth, Vivian was still holding back one card. She couldn't tell them what she was _really_ here for. True, it did involve slaying the Demon Hound, but…there was something the Demon Hound possessed that would be able to turn the tide in her favor once more. And if she lived to obtain it, she might still have a chance to pay the demon butler back for all he had done to her. But again, only if she lived long enough.

"Hm? How interesting. Perhaps that explains the unusual barrenness of this place despite its famed healing waters…" Pondered the boy. Vivian couldn't help a smile. He was quite clever for as young as he was. Her smile was lost however as the young Earl continued with his interrogation.

"Now, to the really interesting question: how did you survive?"

Vivian flinched involuntarily. Of course, she had been expecting this question, but that didn't make her any more ready with her answer.

"I…I'm not really sure."

The young Earl arched a wry brow at Vivian.

"I find that difficult to believe."

Vivian chuckled, leaning back in her chair.

"You're not the only one."

Supposing there was nothing for it, Vivian braced herself as she recalled the memories of nine days ago. And since there was no better place to begin than the beginning, she started with that.

 **...**

Vivian was started awake. Even now, she could not say what woke her. A bad dream, the flutter of her heart, or perhaps some outside force, but it hardly mattered when the only thing that greeted her was utter darkness. She tried to feel around for her bedside table for the candle and matches she always kept on it, but found it difficult to move. Everything of hers hurt. Ached. Her arms and chest in particular felt tender, as if she had broken something.

"Where…where am I?"

Reaching out, Vivian only felt the grain of wood. She wriggled but it was to no avail. Moving with the grain, Vivian discovered that she was trapped in some kind of wooden box with plush silk beneath her. Worse, she was shrouded in complete and total darkness. Her chest started to heave, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She couldn't remember how she got here. She couldn't remember anything.

 _Think Vivian, think. What was the last thing you remember doing? Well…I stopped by the tavern to have dinner. Then I went home, Georgette wasn't there. Then I felt presence of a demon. Then there was a scream, and then…_

Black feathers and red eyes. Eyes of a devil with a smile of sharpened teeth sitting below. Hungry. Cruel. She had fought against him, saving a child. But the demon did not die. She stabbed him, but he didn't die. He chased after her, hunted her down, and tore into her back. Into her flesh. His red eyes piercing her down as everything faded to this horrible black she was now trapped in.

"No…no…oh, god, no!" Moaned Vivian, her panic carrying itself as her hands tightened into fists,and she rammed them against it the wood.

"Let me out! Please! Please let me out!"

She was trapped. She was trapped in the dark again. The red eyes…the red eyes had done this to her. They had put her here, they had dragged her back into the place of her nightmares. The demon…the demon was coming to get her! She had been training to fight them her whole life, but they did not prepare her for this! This pain! The cruel laughter! The demon was laughing at her as she bled!

"Father! Father, please! It's hurting me!" Vivian sobbed, clawing at the heavy lid above her. Her whole body thrashed, wild and desperate to escape. She could feel something warm dripping down on her face, and tasted blood. Soon enough, her strength broke through, and dirt rained down on her. Instantly she stilled.

 _Dirt? Then…I'm not in the vault. I'm not there. I'm…I'm someplace else…_

This forced Vivian to calm down. If there was dirt above her, then that meant she had been buried. Why was a question for later. Right now, thanks to her panic, she had broken the lid which had been keeping the ground above her from collapsing, and now it was only a matter of seconds until it suffocated her.

Vivian began to dig with her splintered hands. She scrambled, clawed, and pushed. Dirt, pebbles, and turf weighed heavily down on her, and she couldn't breathe for the longest time. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, practically deafening her, but then she broke through.

The air of the cool night around her was the most exquisite thing Vivian had ever tasted in her life. She gasped and sputtered, not stopping until she was completely out of the ground. Rolling to her side, her eyes swam with the image of the starry sky above her. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Vivian laid there for a long time, gasping and sobbing, but soon the pain in her arms, chest, and now hands reminded her of her situation. Forcing herself to rise, Vivian looked herself over.

 _What in the name of the Divine?!_

She was wearing the dress. _The_ dress, the one the demon and his master – the Earl Phantomhive, yes, she remembered him now – had given her. The velvet material was ripped and dirt stained now, but still as she remembered it. Hadn't she thrown this away? She ran a hand over it, and something glittered and caught her attention.

Her family's ring…the signet of the Order of the Hunt. She hadn't worn that thing in years let alone looked at it. Fingers trembling with exhaustion and pain, Vivian pried the ring off of herself, tucking it out of sight in her dress. With that done, Vivian spun herself around to take in her surroundings. She seemed to be in the country, a field and a forest not far from the small hill she was on top of. Turning more, she could see a few carved pillars that looked like tombstones –

"Well, well, well. Looks like you've had a trying night." Chuckled someone nearby.

"Wh-AAH!?"

Vivian flinched away from the voice, but her then knees buckled. She was tumbling down the hill before she realized what was happening. Gravity was stronger than Vivian was at the moment, so she had no choice but to let it carry her until she rolled to a stop at the bottom.

"Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!" Laughed the voice, and Vivian's spinning vision spotted a figure in grey and black cloaks sitting on a headstone not far from where she had landed. He was clutching his belly, laughing so hard that he shook.

"W-who are you? Where…" Vivian struggled to ask as she squinted at the man. His face was hidden by his long grey hair and a tall, crooked hat. The man took a while to recover from his laughing fit, still giggling when he bowed his head towards Vivian.

"I am the Undertaker, little dove. And this," He gestured about them, "is a graveyard."

Vivian looked around, and frowned. He was right. She was in a graveyard…and as her eyes trailed back up the hill, she saw where she had crawled out of the ground. It was a grave, and at the head of it was a tombstone with _her_ name on it.

 _Oh…I don't like that. I don't like that one bit._

"Why am I here? Why was I buried…?" Vivian asked helplessly, her memories still a blur. The Earl Phantomhive and his butler had tricked her, trapping her. They were going to arrest her for her crimes as the Butcher, but then she escaped. Then…then…

"Because, you were dead. At least, you were two days ago when I buried you." Explained the strange man, the Undertaker she supposed she should call him, with a mad giggle.

Vivian blinked. It…it was all she could do.

"What?"

"Dead. Dead as a doornail." The Undertaker explained in a sing-song voice, "First time I seen a doornail crawl out of its coffin though…"

Vivian helplessly slumped back down onto the ground. Her mind was foggy, but slowly she started to piece together what had happened.

 _I went home, Georgette wasn't there. Then I felt presence of a demon. Then there was a scream, and then…_

And then she fought the demon butler. She had stabbed him, thinking she killed him, but then his master came out and she was trapped. She broke free, attempted to sever their contract, and then escaped. And then…and then…

Sebastian had killed her. He had chased her down in his true form, black and horrible, his eyes gleaming in mad pleasure as he killed her.

 _…I…I had died. I was dead. I didn't just wake up…I came back to life._

At the realization, Vivian's chest convulsed in pain. Her heart! The demon tried to rip out her heart!

Reaching up, Vivian ripped off the shredded front of the dress that barely clung to her. A star shaped scar was revealed to her…red and angry, but healed nonetheless. Ripping off more of the dress, Vivian saw little marks where the forks and knives had pinned her to the alley wall, marks that would fade in time.

 _This is...unusual. Even for me._

She should be dead. She _had_ been dead. She now remembered going cold and everything going dark. She remembered thinking she would finally be at peace. It was like going to sleep, except there were no dreams, no nightmares. No Heaven. No Hell. Only peace and darkness…

 _So then how did I…ah. Of course._

Vivian's hand clenched itself into a fist above her scarred heart. Her lip trembled in realization, but she would not let the thought consume her. She was alive. It was something at least. She was alive and she was starving for something deep fried.

"Alright. A first time for everything." She chuckled, moving to stand up. Her body protested, her legs shaking under her weight, but she managed eventually. Turning towards the Undertaker, Vivian tried her best to smile politely.

"Do you mind, please, telling me the way back to London?"

The Undertaker grinned. He leapt off of the gravestone he had perched on, striding over towards Vivian in a rather creeping fashion.

"Oh, I'll tell you." He whispered as he stopped in front of her, dragging an impossibly long black nail from the bridge of her nose to its tip and tapping it twice like she was a child. The Undertaker's grin became crooked.

"But first, a joke!"

Vivian flinched.

"A what?"

"Tell me a joke, and I'll tell you which way back to London. That's the price for information. Give me the gift of laughter, and I'll tell you anything!"

"You…you can't be serious."

The Undertaker snickered, "Oh, I never am."

Vivian's brow ticked in annoyance. This…this was too much for her to handle. And she had just _died_.

"Well...alright. Here I go." She groaned in consent before forcing a smile, "I don't like dancing, and I find that waltzing makes me dizzy. But one must get used to it, you know. It is the way of the whirled!"

Vivian waited in complete silence. It a bad joke, but it was the only joke she knew. Seeing the Undertaker's blank face, Vivian knew she failed. She tried to think of something else – perhaps a funny story? – but was drawing a complete blank.

"Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!" Suddenly squawked the Undertaker, knocking Vivian back down to the ground in surprise. The Undertaker rolled about, writhing and giggling as Vivian back peddled away from him in panic. The man was gasping for air when he finally stopped laughing, spasming and still smiling.

"Oh, on my. You are very talented. Very talented indeed, my little dove."

Vivian shook her head and stood, looking down at the Undertaker as she straightened her tattered dress as best she could.

"Which way to London then?"

The Undertaker pointed towards a path that dove into the woods.

"Down the road, and to the left. Seven miles."

Vivian looked towards the forest, and then nodded firmly. She already had a plan in mind for what to do, and would deal with the existential crisis that led her to be restructured later.

"Thank you…I guess. Goodybe." She smiled and then departed, cradling her bleeding and shredded hands. It would take her all night to make the journey to London. Longer possibly. But she had no choice. She had to move on, and deal with the consequences later when she had the strength to confront with them. As she would have to. She was a Huntress after all, and had her duties to preform…there was no peace for her, not even in death apparently…

"Bye-bye!" Waved the Undertaker to the retreating back of Vivian. He tittered to himself, his grin disappearing into a sly smirk.

"Even without your first-rate joke, this night has been a delightful one, little dove."

 **...**

Vivian took a moment compose herself after she had finished retelling her story. Her throat felt dry from talking so much. She scarcely met the Earl or demon's eyes as she had spoken, but now dared an attempt. They both were silent and, understandably, skeptical of her story. But it was the truth, as much as it disturbed Vivian.

"I…I had clawed my way out of that coffin. By what that strange man told me, that I had been lying in it for two nights." She continued, removing the gloves she wore. She lifted them up for the boy and demon to see. They were red and raw in some places, though on the mend, and even the fingernails she had lost had begun to grow back. Something in the demon's eyes flashed dangerously as he looked them over, and so Vivian lowered her hands back into her lap, scratching at the fading cuts.

"I walked back to London and went to one of my emergency stashes, tried and failed to search for my sword for a few days, and then decided to come here and go into hiding."

"Stashes?" The Earl spoke for the first time since Vivian began her story. She nodded.

"In case the Order ever tried to force me back. Just a bit of money and fresh clothes that I could grab and go if it ever came to that."

"You are afraid of the Order which exists to serve you?" Asked the demon, and Vivian's hands clenched in anger.

"I am not afraid of them!" She snarled, "They are a bunch of cowards that hide behind me while _I_ did the dirty work. I serve the Divine, not them. I chose what I can and cannot do, not those hypocrites."

Vivian only too late realized what she had just said, and forced herself to ease back into the chair.

 _Great, good going Vivian. Why don't you just reveal your entire tragic backstory while you're at it? I'm sure it will get a laugh._

Normally, she would be able to remain closemouthed about her secrets, as it was the way she was raised. But she supposed one was allowed to be a _tad_ emotional and irate when one had just died and come back. Still, there was no need to blather pathetically. Honestly, at this point, she hardly cared what they had in store for her. It couldn't possibly be worse than what she had gone through before, in some form or fashion. And if they decided to kill her, well, that just might prove to be more difficult than any of them could imagine...

"Living by your own terms, eh? I can understand that." Chuckled the young Earl, "But you still have not answered my question. _How_ did you survive?"

Vivian flinched, and began to shift uncomfortably in her chair. She had wanted to stall, and so far she had told the truth, but this…

 _I…I can't say it. I just can't. If I do…then it becomes real…and I don't want to deal with the consequences. Not yet. Please, not yet._

"I think that I may know the answer, my lord." Spoke the demon, and Vivian's eyes flashed up to him. The Earl turned in his chair to his butler.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Remember, our Butcher became famous for slitting her prey open end to end…and for taking the victims' hearts…"

Vivian shuddered, and the demon smiled down at her wickedly as her eyes went wide in fright. Perhaps he had been bluffing about knowing, but Vivian's reaction gave him a solid answer now. Hugging her arms tightly to herself, Vivian braced to have the truth thrown into her face, the one she had been refusing to think on since she had woken up in that graveyard...

"Their hearts?" Frowned the Earl, "What does that have to do with anything?"

Sebastian did not meet his master's gaze, instead, kept his locked on Vivian's as if he wanted to see her come undone by the truth.

"There are legends, young lord. Legends about the properties of a demon's heart. If one were to say… _eat_ the heart of a demon, powers unknown to mankind would become theirs."

"Eat?" Gasped the young Earl, unable to help his shock as he turned back to Vivian. She looked away from the both of them, her shame written on her face. The demon's smile became a sneer, mocking and pleased.

"It appears our little Huntress is not the pure tool of the Divine she insists she is."

Silence followed for a time, and one could almost hear the servants talking down below in the kitchen. Vivian's fingers gripped her arms tighter, knuckles turning white, the whole of her shaking. Her hesitance to say anything tested the Earl's patience.

"Well, Miss Carter?"

Vivian drew in a long, deep breath. She braced herself before forcing her eyes to meet the child's.

"It is true. I have eaten the hearts of seventeen demons." She said with a smile, as if that lightened the toll of what she had just confessed.

"Why?"

"For the power. As I had told you, I stood a chance to eliminate all the demons on this earth. It is because I had made the choice to sacrifice of my salvation, of any chance of peace in Heaven, to eliminate the demons. The hearts increased my strength, my speed, my endurance…even my ability to use my Divine powers. For that power I was willing to trade everything…if just to have it all end…" She explained, surprised at how easy the truth came out of her.

In some strange way it was a relief to finally say it out loud. Maybe it was because while the Earl and demon were certainly surprised, they did not appear to be disgusted or horrified with her as anyone - _normal_ \- might. Still, what she had done was sacrilege itself. She had polluted her body, tainted it, with the flesh of demons. If she had been typical human she would have been died at the first bite or been overrun with madness. But because she had come from a line of humans gifted by angels, blessed with their blood, she had survived and grown stronger than any Hunter or Huntress before her ever was. She was stronger and more powerful than any of them, and she even healed faster. When she had suffered injuries in the past she always healed without medical aid or any scars remaining.

Vivian unconsciously reached up to place a hand over her heart, knowing the scar there would fade just like the others on her body, but the weight of her decision made two years ago would never go away.

"I never thought…I never thought it would save me from death though. I had never imagined it was possible…" Vivian laughed, not knowing how else to react, "Perhaps I've eaten so many now I've become immortal."

"No, demon hearts could never grant that." Spoke Sebastian, bringing Vivian's attention back on to him, "But I would say you now possess a tremendous invulnerability as well as an expanded lifetime. In our encounter you most likely came to the very brink of death, perhaps crossing over for a moment and fooling us all, but by the time you were being buried your body no doubt was already healing itself."

Vivian had to say, the demon was taking all this remarkably well. She had eaten the hearts of his kind, and he didn't even blink. If anything, he seemed to be fascinated by it, if that smirk he wore was any indication.

 _He probably is thinking that I'm no better than him…and he'd be right…_

"Was it worth staining your soul over?" He asked her, his self-satisfied words cutting Vivian to the quick. She was about to tell him to go jump in the lake and drown, when his master spoke up.

"Is this why you left the Order?"

"One reason of many. They had… _objected_ to it strongly. Eating the hearts was considered an act of treason." Vivian shrugged, sharing as much as she dared to. While it was true, Vivian had many, _many_ , other reasons for leaving the Order. And her eating demon hearts was just the beginning.

"But I wanted it to end, and I had to take risks. I had sworn I would be the last Huntress…one way or another."

"Why?"

" _Why?_ " Vivian stressed, becoming defensive, "Why are you so suddenly curious about me?"

"I wouldn't say suddenly. When Sebastian explained to me what you were I had become quite…intrigued." The Earl explained. At his side, the demon butler glanced down at his master, for once not privy to his thoughts it seemed. Vivian shook her head, deciding enough was enough.

"Well, if I have answered your questions, I would like to ask one of mine if I may."

The Earl looked her over for a moment, stretching the silence uncomfortably, before nodding his ascent.

"What do you plan to do to me?"

The boy's quiet, sly smile appeared again, and Vivian did not like the look of it.

 _I knew it. Torture. I'm going to be tortured to death. Or maybe he'll just order his demon to rebury me in my coffin so that my funeral wasn't a 'wasted kindness'. Or maybe-_

"Nothing."

Vivian blanched when the Earl finally spoke.

"N-nothing?"

"Nothing." He repeated before standing from his chair, "As far as the law is concerned, Miss Carter is dead and has paid for her crimes. As for your transgression against myself for trying to break my contract with Sebastian…well, you were buried alive. I cannot think of a worse punishment than that."

Vivian arched a wry brow, not really certain how to take this bit of sympathy. Maybe sympathy wasn't the right word for it, but still, she could not believe the Earl _might_ just let her live yet. She supposed his strange logic had a point, but she hardly dared to think he might treat her fairly.

"Without your sword, I'm guessing you will not dare to attack Sebastian. And if you try to break our contract again or try to stand in my way, whether tomorrow or ten years from now, well…" There was that cruel smile again, turned fully towards Vivian for her to understand the warning behind it, "There already is a grave with your name on it."

Vivian weighed the option the Earl was offering her. While it was against her nature to allow a demon to exist peacefully around her – like asking a cat to love a rat – she had no power to do anything else. It seemed that the Earl was willing to let her go if she 'behaved' herself. His demon would never dare to go against his master's orders, so that would buy her immunity from him. To make a truce with him may not be the right thing, but it was the smart thing. And being smart was what helped Vivian live as long as she had.

After a long and tenacious battle with her instincts, she finally managed to quell them.

"…agreed. So long as you keep your demon on a short chain." Conceded Vivian, "I have my business to attend to, and you have yours. We leave each other in peace and go our separate ways."

Standing up and reaching out to the child, Vivian and the Earl shook hands. His skin was as soft as she remembered, but grip firm.

"Then, let us be amiable, Miss Carter. Or, Miss Clark I assume it is now."

"Vivian." She told him as she put her gloves back on to hide the cuts.

"Vivian it is then."

She smiled to hear her name – the first time anyone had said it in years - but then schooled her expression.

 _Well. This went better than expected. I'm alive, I have all my limbs...all and all a good day. But...it could be better._

"Oh. Just one more thing." She spoke up just as the Earl and his demon were about to leave the library. They paused, and turned towards her curiously. Without hesitation, Vivian strode right up to the demon.

 ** _SLAP!_**

The smack was satisfactorily loud and painful sounding, turning the demon's head aside as the cheek she had slapped flamed red. The puzzlement on his face and his master's was far more enjoyable however.

"That's for sneaking into my flat while I slept and touching me!" She accused, eyes blazing, "Killing me is one thing, but if there is something I hate more than a demon, it's a pervert!"

With that, she marched past the demon and left the library. Before she turned down the stairs, Vivian could hear the young Earl's laughter echo behind her.

* * *

"Sebastian…what do you think of the Huntress?"

The demon paused in his unpacking of the portmanteau to turn to his master. It was some time after dinner, and his master had retired to the guest room early. Dinner with Lord Barrymore had been awkward, to say the least, and so his master hardly wanted to spend any more time with the feral man than he had to. It seemed he preferred the company of the book Miss Carter – _no_ , Miss Vivian – had recommended to him, as he was already a fourth of the way through it. This had been the first time he had spoken since Sebastian entered to finish the unpacking after assisting Angela with cleaning up the dinner.

 _Hardly any wonder. We both have had a great deal to reflect upon since this afternoon._

"Miss Vivian?" He said, pronouncing her name slowly to properly savor it, "She is quite the interesting creature that is certain."

From his chair the Earl nodded, setting down the paperback magazine in his lap to gaze at the fire in the hearth.

"To have died and then returned…yes. She is very interesting indeed. But about her eating the hearts of demons, are you not disturbed?" The young master's expression remained as solemn as ever, but the demon could hear the slight amusement in his voice. Sebastian disappointed him with an artful smile.

"On the contrary, I am intrigued. She has devoted herself entirely to her precious Divine, going so far as to taint herself from it. It's quite unexpected of a Huntress."

Unexpected as an understatement. It was unimaginable, it was impossible. And yet, Miss Vivian had surprised him again and gone against what he had thought to be true. Upon her death he never considered the possibility of her coming back – if anything, he was opposed to the very idea of it. And yet, here she was. Alive and well. And now so was the thought of 'what if' for Sebastian…surely, it was not chance that not only was Miss Vivian alive, but also residing in the same town in the same castle in which he and his master had business? The same as his master, Sebastian did not believe in chance…

 _No…now is not the time or place to consider such. I shall attend to that in due course._

"In some ways, she reminds me of you, young master." Sebastian continued. This surprised the Earl, who leaned forward in his chair in interest.

"Of me?"

"Indeed." Sebastian nodded.

A soul, pure at the core, and yet, drenched in sin. Miss Vivian had bathed herself in blood and wickedness and came out clean and white. She had made a choice, a sacrifice, to gain power and get closer to her desires. She had abandoned the Order, the only family she had possibly known, all to obtain that power. She did not think about the consequences, only thinking of the reward. With no regard for Heaven or Hell or her own humanity, she scarified it all the moment she took a bite of a demon's heart – how like a lamb willingly being led to slaughter with the promise of becoming a wolf. Miss Vivian did indeed resemble his master closely in many ways, and Sebastian found the parallel almost amusing. His tastes, if nothing, were consistent…

"It sounds like you quite admire her." Observed the young master, eyes narrowing. Sebastian revealed nothing behind his empty smile.

"The level of dedication she has is certainly admirable, but what she had devoted herself to is ridiculous in every regard. For as I have said; as long as there is greed, desperation, and a desire for revenge in mankind, demons will always be."

This remained true. Mate or not, alive or not, Miss Vivian was a disillusioned woman struggling towards an impossible ideal. Such foolishness was entertaining at best for Sebastian. That said, she had accomplished more than any Hunter or Huntress before her thanks to the demons hearts she had consumed. Twenty demons…seventeen hearts…it was a disturbing number. Miss Vivian certainly was strong, and an excellent Huntress as she was a secretary, but she was very much in opposition to everything Sebastian was.

"It is instinct for her and I to hate one another. She is a Huntress, I a demon. It is like asking a dog and a cat to get along. We are natural enemies."

With this, Sebastian idly reached up to touch where she had slapped him. While it had amused his master immensely, for Sebastian it was not quite so enjoyable…though her hand had felt warm on his cheek even through the glove she wore. To be honest it had actually hurt. He supposed he could understand her anger – after all, he had killed her. Still, now that she was alive again, he was going to have to live with her until this the Earl's business was concluded here at Barrymore castle…her and his instincts that howled to march the thirty feet that separated him from her now.

She was there, at the edge of feeling. The library was not far from the young lord's room, and Sebastian's sharpened senses could feel her in nearly every capacity. The sound of her shuffled footsteps as she moved to and from the shelves, the image of her biting her lip in concentration, the scent of the ink she had spilt on herself, the palpable taste of her panic and loathing dancing on his tongue…it was quite vexing.

 _With Miss Vivian – and the amount of mutts running about – this promises to be a most unpleasant time until the young master can solve this case. Something needs to be done. Something needs to go._

"Like a dog and a cat, huh?" Chuckled the young master, drawing back the attention of the demon. Ciel, unlike his demon, was highly amused with this situation. If anything it promised to be even more so. For while Ciel would not stand for Miss Vivian to separate him from his demon, he was entertained by her determination and persistence. Her sacrificing everything to become strong was something he could rightly sympathize with. Ciel supposed Sebastian was right, they were very similar to one another…

Sebastian frowned at the pensive look on his master's face.

He recalled in the seconds before Miss Vivian made the mistake of trying to break their contract, his master was about to say something the demon would be whole heartedly – with what little heart he possessed – opposed to.

"Young lord, there is something I would ask. Before Miss Vivian attacked and tried to break our contract, it appeared to me that you were considering of asking her to join your staff. Is it possible you spared her now because you are still considering–"

A knock at the door of the guest room stopped the demon. With a glance to the demon, the young lord picked up the book again before announcing, "Come in."

The maid, Angela, opened the door. Her eyes were down cast meekly, but Sebastian could smell the scent of Lord Barrymore on her. A servant trysting with her lord? How reprehensible.

"I apologize for calling so late."

"What is it that you need? My young master is about to retire." Sebastian told her as he went back to unpacking the remaining suits of the young lord. Angela stepped closer to the young master, her hands folded before her.

"I have a request to make." She said hastily, "Leave the castle, leave the village completely! You mustn't stay here!"

The young master did not even bother to look up from his book when he answered her, completely indifferent.

"Why is that?"

"I can't say…but–"

A sound – a long, wavering howl – stopped Angela from saying more. It was a note that struck the lower spine and sent a shiver up to the hackles on the back of one's neck. The terrible, course sound of a large dog.

"Oh no!" Gasped the maid as she began to tremble, "The Demon Hound! It's coming!"

"The what?" Asked the young master, glancing over at Sebastian as he shut the wardrobe – now finished with the unpacking. It seemed that Miss Vivian had at least been telling the truth there. When Angela began to shriek, both he and his master turned toward the window.

There, in perfect silhouette, was the shape of a large dog. A wolf more like, but in order to cast a shadow so large it at least had to be two stories high.

"Sebastian!" Shouted the young master, and the demon reacted. Running to the window he threw back the curtains, but there was nothing to be seen. At least, not at first. Sebastian's eyes trained themselves on something running in the dark, glowing an eerie green.

"What was that thing?" The Earl asked as he came alongside Sebastian. The demon pointed to what he had spotted.

"Master, look there."

Seeing the unnatural, illuminated trail of the running animal, the Earl and demon watched as the creature ran straight for the village. It ran through the streets, and following its wake were the alarmed cries of the people, their windows lighting up as they started to spill into the streets. They were crying out in fright, shouting to one another 'who is the bad dog?'

Curious to say the least, Sebastian and his master made their way downstairs. Following them was Angela as they came outside. The young master approached one the tracks left behind, kneeling down and running a finger over the glowing residue left behind. Rubbing it in between his fingers, he frowned thoughtfully.

"Hm." So, that was the game. It appeared to Ciel that Lord Barrymore and Miss Vivian's demon hound was little more than a hoax.

"What's going on here, what's all the fuss about?" Shouted Baldroy as he and the other Phantomhive servants ran out of the castle in their nightclothes.

"The Demon Hound…" Explained Angela, causing a wave of shock to go through them.

"Demon Hound?"

"It brings great catastrophe to the village. Anyone who dares to defy my master, will be punished by the Demon Hound. There's no way to stop it."

Sebastian arched a wry brow. While there was another demonic presence here besides his own, it was quite a ways from the village. Whatever had ran through was certainly not of his realm. His master already suspected that much as well, but they did not have time to confirm their thoughts as the villagers had arrived at the castle, bearing torches and worried expressions.

"Angela! Please wake Lord Barrymore at once! The Demon Hound has come again." One of them shouted.

"Who was the punished one?" Angela asked, but as of then it seemed none of the villagers had an answer. She ran back inside for her lord, returning moments later with not only him but Miss Vivian in tow as well. She ran along with Angela and Lord Barrymore, hardly glancing over at Sebastian as she passed by him. The sway of her dress and short hair made her scent flare in such a provocative manner that Sebastian felt his hands clench themselves into fists.

 _I refuse. I refuse to bend to such debase impulses. No more…it ends now…_

Together, the Phantomhive and Barrymore households, along with the distressed mob, made their down into the village. Searching street after street, they finally came upon the 'punished one'. It was the young boy they had seen on their way into the village, now lying prone upon the ground with clothes torn and bite marks riddling his body. From beside him, his kennel of dogs bayed and growled fiercely.

"How awful…" Whispered Baldroy, he and the others keeping their distance. The Earl Phantomhive was the first to approach the body, kneeling down to inspect closer. He picked up the boy's arm, eyes narrowing at the bite mark.

"So…that's it then…"

"Stand back! Don't touch!" Shouted Lord Barrymore, "I see it was James then, he was the bad dog."

"Yes," Confirmed a villager, "He broke the legal restriction on dog ownership. He had six dogs, one more than is allowed."

Lord Barrymore lowered his head.

"A sixth dog…then this was inevitable."

"That's all you can say?! Really?!" Baldroy accused, clinging to his pillow tightly. Lord Barrymore shot him a scowl.

"This village is under my rule and no other. The Demon Hound protects that rule. As the guardian of the Barrymore family, it punishes anyone and everyone who dares to challenge me!"

In the echo of his shouting, the villagers began to chant.

"The white dog is a good dog, a good dog, good. The black dog is a bad dog, a bad dog, bad. He'll eat your flesh down to the bone, down to the bone. He'll gobble you up until you're gone, until you're gone."

Continuing in their chant, the villagers produced a stretcher and collected James and carried off into the misty night. As they walked away, Lord Barrymore stayed behind to give them a warning.

"I was sure you outsiders were going to be its next prey. You were lucky to have escaped." He and Angela parted then to join with the villagers. It would seem to them, the murder of James was open and shut, and yet the demon still had to marvel at the blindness of the villagers. He glanced down at the Earl.

"Well master?"

Ciel stepped back over to the spot where the boy had been laying previously. The ground was bloodstained, still fresh and wet.

"Miss Vivian."

Lurking behind the Phantomhive household, Miss Vivian jumped to attention. She had stayed behind with them, invisible to everyone else except for the master and Sebastian. The demon wondered if this was how she went through everyday life, invisible and overlooked. She moved around the staff – who gave her some curious looks – before joining the Earl at his side.

"Yes, Lord Phantomhive?"

"I want your opinion. What do you make of this?"

Miss Vivian's eyes widened - surprised - but then her expression set itself determinedly. She glanced towards the direction Lord Barrymore had retreated, her voice condemning.

"Nothing demonic is responsible for this murder, if that is what you are wondering."

Sebastian smirked. So, she had suspected the same as he did. What a clever little Huntress she was.

"Hm." Mused Ciel for a moment before turning back to his servants, "Come. We shall return to the castle."

"I don't want to go back there, no I don't!" Mey-Rin protested, Baldroy and Finnian nodding in agreement. The young Earl scoffed at their apprehension.

"Then you can sleep outside."

"Eh?!"

Without much of a choice, the Phantomhive staff followed after their master. All but for one.

Sebastian remained behind, watching Miss Vivian as she turned away from the direction of the castle. She was looking out into the dark hills beyond the village, her eyes narrowed. Now doubt she sensed as well as he the presence that surrounded the village was closer than before. And while Sebastian knew he should rejoin his master, he needed to address the problem that was Miss Vivian.

And end it. Now.

"So…your Demon Hound is not the culprit?"

At the sound of his voice, Miss Vivian was taken out of her concentration. She turned towards him, her expression betraying nothing even though he caught her shift anxiously when she finally noticed they were alone.

"You know a human is responsible for this."

"Yes." He smirked, knowing to whom she referred. She boldly turned her back on him and began to walk down the road that led to the countryside.

"Where are you going?"

"Hunting, if you must know." She announced as she continued on, "A human killed poor James but I sense… _something_ nearby. I'll be back before the morning."

This information no doubt was for the Earl's sake, as she knew it was likely that Sebastian would report this back to his master. And she was right. However, he was not willing to let this brief interlude end just yet. Unfurling his demonic presence, he reached out to Miss Vivian, making her pause to shiver. A sick thrill of the demon's was satisfied to see how much he affected her.

"You devote yourself so faithfully to the eradication of my kind, and yet you are blind to the truth." Sebastian sneered, causing Miss Vivian to glance back at him. He approached her in slow, measured steps, "Humans…their greed, their desires…can you not see that they are the fuel that feeds the fire?"

Miss Vivian arched a brow at him, no doubt wondering what he was trying to get at. She watched him as he slowly removed the glove over his left hand, showing off the seal that glowed on the back. He stopped before her, towering over her. She was so small, barely coming to his chest. Made him wonder how she ever fit to him when he held her as she died.

"If it were not for sins of man that cast him out of Eden, demons would have died out long ago when God shed his light upon the earth. We simply feed off of man's own folly."

Miss Vivian, for as much as she obviously feared him, quelled it well as she met his eyes. She rose up to the challenge he presented.

"I…I do not deny it. Man is flawed. Greedy. Hateful. Even pure things like love, faith, and trust can be perverted by man for selfish reasons."

Sebastian was quite surprised at her agreement. He had expected her to spit back some idyllic speech she had prepared, but she threw him off further by smirking up at him almost mischievously.

"Thank God for women then, eh?" She laughed, the chiming sound cutting through the demon.

"Humans have a chance to be wonderful things." Miss Vivian continued, glancing towards the ground where the dead James had laid, "They can be kind, they can love, and they can kill. They can create and destroy. They are not angels, and they are not demons. But that is what it means to be human. They have a chance to be anything they want to be, good or bad…whereas _things_ like you do not."

"Things like me?" Sebastian smiled viciously, "And what of things like _you_? I am a demon, yes, but what are you?"

Taking a step closer, Sebastian could see Miss Vivian's panic rise up in her again, spiking in her scent. He could see her hand twitch to place itself over her heart, as if to protect it from him. It would do her little good. Sebastian had her alone now, and he would end this little pretense and every chance of 'what if'…

"You are not a human, not any longer. You had drunk the blood of angels to become a Huntress, and you have consumed the hearts of demons to become strong. So what are you then, Miss Vivian?"

Miss Vivian trembled and did not answer. No doubt Sebastian's closeness was forcing her to relive the moments when she had died. Taking advantage of her trauma, Sebastian reached out his bare hand. Without giving her time to react, he traced his fingers over her cheek, along her jaw, and ending to grasp at her chin and tilt her face further up to him. Her lazuline eyes went wide and her mouth opened to make a sound of protest, but his grip became harsh, preventing her.

"What are you?" Sebastian repeated, but whether to her or himself he could not be sure.

He prepared himself for the conclusion of 'what if'. To finally banish the notion that she was his mate. A simple touch would disprove it. Before had been a mistake, a misinterpretation. When he held her as she died, it had to be a simple matter of mourning. Yes, that had to have been it. A mourning for the end of a rivalry between demons and Hunters. Though they had been enemies, they had been together since nigh the beginning and it was always a displeasure to witness the last of a breed die. That was what he must have felt then, and to his pleasure, Sebastian felt nothing now. Not even when he ran a thumb over Miss Vivian's parted lips.

 _Nothing. She is not my mate. No…of course she is not. How could a Huntress–_

Any relief Sebastian felt was overpowered as a chord deep within him was plucked. Raw and taunt, it shivered pleasurably through the demon and forced him still. The breath of Miss Vivian ghosted over his fingers, oppressing him and leaving him vulnerable. Unbidden, he could hear the pulse of her small frail heart reaching out to his blackened one, beating in tandem. His eyes widened in shock, ravished in the aftermath of recognition that had his instincts dancing as one word screamed through him.

 _Mine…_

As if singed, Sebastian removed his hand, ending the torture that had only been endured for a second…but it was eternity enough. Miss Vivian had by now had found her nerve, and smacked his hand further back.

"I am…running out of patience." Miss Vivian finally answered, meeting his eyes with a hate that burned Sebastian as much as her skin had, "One day, when I am strong enough, I will have the power to get rid of you. So watch yourself, _demon_."

With that, Miss Vivian turned away, boldly presenting her back to the demon she had just threatened. He could hear her heart beating violently, but she walked calmly away. She was afraid of him, but she would not allow that to deter her. She walked into the dark, entering the bleak countryside to search for monsters…

Sebastian remained where he was for a time. By now his master would only have just made his way back to the castle with the other servants, and it would be expected of Sebastian to dress him for bed. If he hurried, he would be in time to have never been missed. Of course though, his master would ask where he had been, and Sebastian would have to tell the truth…or at least his version of it. The Earl Phanthomhive, at all costs, should not know of this if Sebastian could prevent it. He himself wished he did not know. 'What if' did not sound so terrible now, _especially_ when the answer was not the one he had been hoping for.

Glancing down at his hand, Sebastian curiously moved his fingers to see if they still worked. They did, but the sensation that had ran through them before remained even as he clenched his hand tightly enough to draw blood. Turning towards the castle, Sebastian began to hurry back, sighing tiredly to himself.

"Well, this is a fine predicament, I must say."

* * *

Ah, how was that lovelies? I'm sorry this chapter is out a bit late, but I didn't have time to edit it earlier. Hope you have enjoyed it all the same, and as always I deeply appreciate the reviews, favs, and follows! They are the fuel for my inspiration, and please know that I read and reread your comments all the time! I am glad you all think Sebastian is in character, as OOCness is something I really try to avoid, and I also am so glad that you all seem to adore how Vivi is not annoying and is an actual character. Again, all your reviews are deeply appreciated!

Anyway, join Sebastian and Vivian next week as they try to continue their work around one another and a trip to the lake turns sour! Till next time lovelies!


	7. Frolicking at the Beach

**Chapter 7; Frolicking at the Beach:**

So…long time no see! Haha! Haha…ha…uh, sorry. This is rather a bad habit of mine. I actually got a bit stuck with this chapter, as I wanted to keep it under a certain word count but I just finally gave in and just let it be what length it needed to be. I really don't have much control here, Vivian and Sebastian just had a lot to think/say in this chapter. They really are troublesome. So, anyway, I hope you don't mind the extra-long chapter, and that you all will forgive me for being late with this story (I was on vacation too for a few weeks, no internet...I barely survived).

As usual, your reviews, favs, and follows are much appreciated! Enjoy darlings!

* * *

Vivian, tangled in her nightgown and blankets, could not for the life of her decide if it was worth getting out of bed or not. Through the window the grey light of morning flittered in, but still her incentive could not be found. She simply laid there, staring up at the ceiling, wishing that the last twenty four hours had been very different. Imagine; no demon, no Earl, just her working in a dusty library for a ranting, rude murderer and she hunting for a demon hound.

 _Actually, that is not much better. Still...I predict that without a doubt today will be the worst day of my life. Well, maybe second worse. Dying was a bit more dramatic._

She could hear the household start to stir in the floors below. Her senses told her that the demon was up as well, but he was attending to his master. If she hurried, she could go down into the kitchen and fetch her breakfast and retreat into the library without ever having to talk to him.

Honestly, that her life had come to this was a shock in itself, but Vivian was nothing if adaptable. Still, this was a bit much. Her, a Huntress, living peacefully with a demon. Well, not peacefully, but they weren't at each other's throats and that felt wrong enough. Not that Vivian wasn't happy to have longer to recover with the promise between her and the Earl to depart ways peaceably…still! A Huntress and a demon under the same roof! She hardly slept at all when she returned sometime in the early dark of morning, squirming and rolling in her bed as the demonic presence of the butler pervaded the entire castle.

 _Honestly, if it was any demon but him, then maybe I could have gotten some sleep. But this demon…this demon…_

This demon was different. He was powerful, arrogant, and absolutely wicked. Well, all demons were like that, but…but this demon! This demon was _infuriating!_ Just what right did have to mock her last night? Going on about man being the fuel for the fire and then touching her, daring to ask what she was? She was angry! That's what! Where did he get the nerve to act so casually with her? It was forward! It was unseemly! It…it…it was just plain rude!

Huffing, Vivian threw back her blankets. The sooner she found the demon hound, the better. Limping to her wardrobe she got dressed. She had twisted her ankle last night in pursuit of the demon hound and it was rather swollen. While she was able to confirm that, yes, there was something in the countryside – something big, with red eyes and white fur – she had not been able to catch up with it. It was fast, faster than her at any rate. If she was fully healed she would have already killed it, but for now she could only do her best. Pushing herself like this might be delaying her recovery, but then, how fast could one recover from death?

Dressed in a blue wool dress, her high collared one with the white lace trim, Vivian slipped on her boots and gloves and left her room. It was a small cupboard really, near to the attic of the castle. Vivian did not mind the draft or the seclusion, though the journey to the water closet was a tad long. The one to the kitchen was longer, but Vivian made it without coming across the demon. He was still with his master, no doubt dressing him for the breakfast Vivian could smell Angela preparing.

"Oy! Finni! Don't just stand there! Lend a hand!"

"Right!"

"Oh, this porridge smells lovely, yes it does!"

"Thank you. It's just a simple recipe."

Vivian paused outside the door of the kitchen, wary of the unfamiliar voices. She remembered that the Earl had brought along other members of his staff besides the butler. She had come across them last night, but there was little time for introductions with poor James having been murdered. Peeking inside, she saw a red haired woman and two blond men. They looked harmless enough, and even a bit silly from what she remembered of them last night. But if they worked for Phantomhive then there had to be more to them then there seemed…

"Good morning Miss Clark!" Cheerfully greeted Angela when she saw Vivian peering around the door. Blushing at being caught, Vivian fully entered the kitchen.

"G-good morning."

The Phantomhive servants paused in their preparing breakfast to stare at her, and Vivian forced herself not to shuffle her feet.

"Eh? Who's this?" Asked the taller blond gentleman, his words slurred by his American accent and the cigarette that hung from his mouth.

"She's a looker. She your sister or something Angela?" He asked, leaning closer. Vivian inadvertently felt herself blush.

"She must be! She has such pretty hair like you!" Agreed the blond boy, clasping his hands in front of him excitedly. He looked at Vivian with eyes so startlingly wide and sea-green she could practically see the innocence gleaming in them.

 _He seems adorable. Like a bouncing puppy._

Angela shook her head in humor.

"No, no. This is Miss Clark, Lord Barrymore's secretary." She explained with a smile, "Miss Clark, this is Baldroy, Mey-Rin, and Finnian. And that's Tanaka in the corner there."

Vivian turned, and sure enough there was another man. He was…small. And sort of rounded, with an elderly countenance and a trimmed mustache.

"Ho…ho…" Was all he said by way of greeting. Vivian arched a brow.

 _Do these people really work for the Queen's Guard Dog? I imagined they'd be…well, at least a little intimidating._

"Oh. Well then, how do you do Miss?" Baldroy grunted, going back to the fruits he was cutting up. It seemed Angela had set them all up to assist her with breakfast, as each were busied with some task or other. Except Tanaka, who just sat in the corner.

"I am well, thank you. Are you all members of the Phantomhive staff?" She asked, just to be sure. Her eyes kept running over the four strangers, wondering what was it that could have possibly induced the Earl Phantomhive to hire any of them. Warily she watched as the red haired woman, Mey-Rin, grabbed a pile of dirtied pots and shakily began to carry them over to the sink to wash. She seemed a bit…wobbly.

"That's right. Our master took us with him to enjoy a bit of holiday." Explained Baldroy. His tone was not as friendly as it was before, and Vivian didn't have to guess why. She was not a servant like themselves, and thus was to be treated with more formality. That said, she was not like Lord Barrymore or the Earl, and thus did not require their attention. She was in between so to speak, neither one nor the other…

 _"What are you?"_

Vivian forcibly shook the demon's voice out of her head.

 _No. I am not going to let him get to me._

"Some holiday it turned out to be…whoa-aah!?" Mey-Rin exclaimed as she crashed into the table where Baldroy was chopping. The table flipped then, sending an array of fruits and sharpened knives everywhere. Vivian barely had time to duck before one embedded itself in the wall behind her. Poor Finnian was not so lucky, and lost a few hairs on the top of his head.

 _Dear God…they are the most incompetent people I have ever met!_

"Breakfast won't be for a few more minutes I'm afraid, Miss Clark." Angela said sheepishly as she looked over the mess. Not really wanting to wait, Vivian walked over to the pantry.

"I will not be eating with the lords. I have too much work to be getting to." Quickly, Vivian made herself a tray of cheese, cured ham, and a few slices of bread. She arranged her meager meal before limping over to the boiling kettle. Angela watched her closely as she poured herself a cup of tea.

"Why, Miss Clark, you're limping!" She exclaimed.

"Hm? O-oh." Vivian gushed awkwardly at the attention, "It is nothing. I must have sprained it in all the excitement last night."

"Oh, dear. You should really take better care of yourself." The slight narrowing of Angela's eyes as she said this made Vivian wonder if she was genuine in her concern. She decided to not think on it, and quickly made her exist before something else could happen. Carrying the tray, she retreated to the library.

When door of the library clicked shut behind Vivian, she sighed in relief. The smell of paper and dust comforted her, and she could feel a few of her nerves unwind. No matter where she was, libraries always had the same kind of scent to them, the only scent Vivian could associate with comfort. Setting the tray down on the one table, Vivian dived into her work.

To be honest, there was little point to this. Seeing as how Lord Barrymore was a murderer, he was sure to be arrested soon by the Queen's Guard Dog. It was obvious to Vivian that the Earl already knew what was going on, and while Vivian herself was not privy to the details, Lord Barrymore's guilt was obvious. He ruled over the village through fear and a few clever tricks. He used the story of the Demon Hound to his advantage, fooling them all. The real Demon Hound rarely came into the village; a wild, simple creature that roamed the countryside, not a beast serving a madman's personal agenda. Vivian personally could not wait until the Earl dealt the same justice she faced onto a man who truly earned every torment that would soon be inflicted upon him.

 _Truly, there is no more deserving subject. I hope they bury him alive as well…_

That said, Vivian supposed she should at least _pretend_ to still work at finding Lord Barrymore's contract. She was hired to do a job, and she would do it well. That, and her absence would be noted during the day, so she would have to wait until night anyway to continue her search. But if the Earl was soon to make an arrest, then Vivian only had a little more time to find the Demon Hound and kill it. Then, she would take its fangs, and from them forge herself a new weapon…one to replace her sword and hopefully set her back on track for slaying all demon kind.

 _And then that demon butler will wish he was never born! Wait…demons aren't born, they were created from the void of darkness that circled the world before God shed his light. Well, my point still stands._

Determined now, Vivian went back to looking over the documents with new vigor, munching idly on a slice of ham. Tonight, sprained ankle or no, she would need to search for the Demon Hound and slay it. She was running out of time…

Behind her, Vivian heard the door to the library open. A part of her dreaded that the demon had come again, but she sensed he was still with his master. To her surprise it was Lord Barrymore who entered, shutting the door behind him.

"Lord Barrymore? What are you doing here?" Remembering her place, Vivian curtseyed to her employer, "I…I mean, good morning sir. Is there something I can help you with?"

Lord Barrymore's eyes scanned the room, landing on the documents Vivian had spread out over the table.

"Have you found the contract?"

"Not yet sir."

"My patience is at its limit, Miss Clark." He scowled, "I expect results, you damned Poodle!"

 _…Poodle?_

"Understood sir." Vivian nodded. Lord Barrymore had not visited her while she worked before, but she could only imagine his desperation to find the contract now. He had killed poor James to scare off the Earl, but no doubt there was more blood on his hands. It took every ounce of Vivian's resolve to smile at him politely. It was not her domain to administer justice to humans – as the Order ingrained in her that only God could condemn them – but Vivian wondered if anyone would truly be opposed if she threw him out of the window...

"That damn pup is breathing down my neck. He and the Queen want my lands. I had thought the death of James would be enough to warn them off." Lord Barrymore snarled as he slammed a fist on the table, making Vivian's breakfast tray crash to the floor.

"The Demon Hound will not rest until all those who oppose my will are gone!"

"O-of course sir." Vivian agreed nervously, not certain what else to say. Lord Barrymore glanced back at her. The new look he fixed her with unsettled Vivian. Because of it, she took a step back when Lord Barrymore approached her.

"Miss Clark, you are loyal to me? Yes?"

"…yes?" She answered hesitantly.

"Good. Good." He nodded, "I would hate for the Hound to harm you."

Vivian took another step back, finding herself bumping into some shelves. She wasn't scared of the murderer per say, but – no, Lord Barrymore being a murderer was sufficient enough reason to keep her distance.

"I have become quite… _fond_ of you, Miss Clark. You are like my sweet Angela. So pure and white. So innocent, and yet…" Barrymore muttered on, reaching out towards a very confused and repulsed Vivian, "She said you were powerful. That you would stop the Queen's Guard Dog…"

"Well, I – sir!" Vivian's attempt to deescalate the situation was halted the moment Lord Barrymore grabbed at her waist. He tried to pull her closer to him, but Vivian repulsively pushed him away. She attempted to step around, but the man grabbed at her again. Pulling away, Vivian's sprained ankle twisted painfully, and with a groan she collapsed. Barrymore, taking advantage of her position, kneeled over her.

"Stop him, Miss Clark. We must stop him, the Queen's Guard Dog must go away." The deranged man loomed over her, and Vivian shuddered when she felt a hand upon her thigh. Her face went red in humiliation, and she began to backpedal away from him.

"Lord Barrymore! P-please! Stop!"

"Then it shall be just you, me, and sweet Angela….forever and ever…" He whispered, grabbing Vivian's hurt ankle. His grip was painful, but it was nothing to the horror Vivian felt as she watched Lord Barrymore _kiss_ her boot!

 _This man is mad! Insane! He is… **he is dead!**_

Vivian prepared herself to kick the man through the wall – she could do it, so easily! – when an amused voice spoke beside her and Lord Barrymore.

"My, my. What a compromising position you have gotten yourself into, Miss Vivian."

Turning, Lord Barrymore and Vivian were shocked to see the demon butler standing beside them. Vivian had not even heard him approach, let alone sensed his demonic presence which now stifled the room. It was churning about them, almost choking Vivian with the emotion that swirled within it. Frustration? No… _anger?_

"You?! Doberman! What do you want?!" Barked Lord Barrymore as he stood himself up. He had not heard the demon either, and seemed a bit humiliated at having been caught making advances on his secretary. The demon bowed with a mocking smile.

"Yes, pardon me, Lord Barrymore. I came to inform you that breakfast is ready. As the host for my lord, one might think you would be present to share it with your guest." Sebastian straightened himself, casting a dark look down at Vivian. She swallowed nervously before also attempting to stand up.

"Very well." Lord Barrymore growled, and without further ado, he promptly stormed out. Vivian finally managed to stand by bracing herself against the shelves, and was not surprised to see that the demon had remained behind with her.

 _Probably going to gloat. Or threaten me. One of the two._

"Are you hurt, Miss Vivian?" He asked, extending a gloved hand at her as if he expected her to take it. She pushed her momentary surprise at the question aside to scowl at him. The demon took his hand back, covering his mouth in a poor attempt to hide his chuckle.

"Really, how careless to let a man like that take advantage of you. A Huntress."

 _Gloating. I was right. Damn this demon._

"Shouldn't you be at your master's side like a good dog?" Vivian's glare hardened as she adjusted her dress and hair back into place. Sebastian arched an amused brow at her.

"Your gratitude sounds curiously like scorn, Miss Vivian."

Vivian barely suppressed the growl that clawed at her throat. She spoke each of her next words as if they were a curse, "The day I am grateful to you is the day Hell freezes over."

The demon's smile twisted itself into a smirk. He leaned forward a little, just enough for Vivian to catch the strange glint in his red eyes.

"But don't you know? Hell has always been a cold realm." Sebastian turned then, retreating for the door, but not before finishing with, "That's why all the devils are here."

Vivian's scowl settled deeper, deep enough that she was certain to have wrinkles from it. She felt wounded, angry, and frustratingly helpless. The demon had not harmed her so far on his master's orders, but Vivian did not think she could survive this constant attack on her pride for another hour. It was too much. She needed to get out of this accursed village as soon as possible. She needed to get a weapon, and then she would retreat to some lovely countryside to recover, and put this all behind her.

 _Tonight. I have to find the Demon Hound tonight before the demon drives me insane!_

* * *

It was late afternoon, and after giving the rest of the Phantomhive staff a bit of a pep talk, preparations for their little trip to the lake were underway. So far, this had been the only order issued by his master. Sebastian had been hoping for a swifter solution to the case, but for some reason the young master wanted to delay the conclusion. As a butler, Sebastian could not make known his wish for haste, but he feared the twitch in his brow might become apparent. The irritation that roiled in his demonic presence was starting to effect the shadows of the castle, giving them a life they never had before.

Miss Vivian was without a doubt an _impossibly_ vexing creature. If Sebastian had been opposed to the idea of a mate before, now he was dead set against it.

For the majority of the night he was able to put her from his mind, having his duties to perform. But when she returned from her unsuccessful hunt late in the night, her presence stifled him. Now knowing his instincts to be correct – that Miss Vivian was, regrettably, a potential mate – they had become insistent on taking action. But Sebastian refused to act blindly. He needed time to consider what was to be done, and time might prove to be too short for him. Claiming her now would not only be unwise, considering the master he currently worked for, but repellent as well. His instincts may be screaming for her, but Sebastian was a demon with aesthetic. He strove for excellence in all his ways, and expected the same in his choice of souls, masters, and finery. Why, the very buttons of his coat were chosen with perfect care, and yet he was supposed to accept a total stranger for a mate?

Just what made Miss Vivian material for a mate? What merit was there to her, _really?_ If Sebastian was to ever be convinced to take a mate, at the very least, she needed to be a mate worthy of a demon is his caliber. Just as his masters were worthy of his service…

True, Miss Vivian was a Huntress, and that alone made her curious enough that his instincts would overlook such a shortcoming. But there were many other faults that Sebastian could not. For instance; how could one slay twenty demons and yet be completely helpless when a human tripped her? Sebastian had not imagined to find her in such a position when he investigated the crash he heard in the library after his master went down for breakfast. Seeing Miss Vivian prone beneath Lord Barrymore, Sebastian became slave to overwhelming anger. Not just at the impudent man, but at Miss Vivian as well. How dare she let such a lowly creature touch her and not immediately _decapitate_ him?

 _Rip him apart. Tear him asunder with a harrowing pain that no devil would envy. Nail by nail, finger by finger, bit by bit until he was a quivering, pathetic pile of flesh and bone…_

Sebastian breathed a sigh, and forced his hands to unclench.

No, there were far too many objections Sebastian had against his so called 'mate' to even think of claiming her now. So then…what action should he take?

Would he tell her? Her disgust and horror might be amusing, but no. It would only lead to more trouble. Would he kill her and be done with it? He had survived her death before, surely it would be no great loss to him again? But his master's orders made it impossible to harm her, at least until some new ones might be issued. Might Sebastian then wait, and let Miss Vivian live her life and find her again after he had concluded his contract with the Earl Phantomhive? That seemed the best course of action, as then it would also give Sebastian the chance to truly test the bond. If it did not wane over years – perhaps decades, depending on how long the Earl's revenge took – then Sebastian would have no choice but to recognize it as a _true_ mating bond.

Yes…perhaps to wait would be the best course of action. He and his master would solve this case soon enough, and then he and Miss Vivian would part ways. Perhaps it would be years before they saw one another again, and if and when they did meet once more Sebastian would then deal with her and his instincts. He was a butler after all, and it would be a disgrace upon his service to the Earl if he became distracted. He had promised to dedicate himself completely, and mate or not, nothing would stand in his way between him and his master.

 _I shall wait then. Yes. If in the time it takes to complete the contract the bond is still there, then I may act on it how I wish. But if it weakens, or if Miss Vivian perishes…well…all the better..._

Resolved now, Sebastian went about his tasks with a settled determination. After seeing to the horses and the servants, he came back inside the castle to see the Earl coming down the stairs dressed and ready for the outing.

"The carriages are ready, young master." Sebastian informed. The Earl nodded, and the demon could help but notice the paperback magazine Miss Vivian recommended to him tucked under his arm. Angela came upon them then, having just waved off her own master who said he had some business in town to be getting to.

"Oh, are you going to the lake today Earl? I hope you enjoy yourselves." She said with a smile. The Earl looked her over for a moment before a smirk that Sebastian didn't trust lit his face.

"Seeing as how your master is out for the afternoon, I would like to invite you and Miss Vivian as well, Angela."

Sebastian's hackles rose unexpectedly.

"How delightful!" She exclaimed, "And I'm sure Miss Clark would love to come!"

"Go and fetch her then. And please inform her how _grateful_ I would be for both of your company." The Earl stressed, knowing that his little message would ensure that Miss Vivian would come. Angela departed upstairs to find the secretary, and Ciel turned towards the demon, not bothering to hide his own self-amusement.

"My lord, are you planning something?" Questioned the demon as his master walked past him. Ciel brushed him off airily, much to the aggravation of Sebastian.

"We shall leave as soon as they are ready."

Ciel did not have to have a plan in order to enjoy tormenting his butler. It was rather amusing to see him and Miss Vivian hiss at one another. And while Ciel did not as of yet have any fixed agendas, he did have a question he wanted to put forth to Miss Vivian. And her answer would be most amusing, one way or another.

A few moments passed as the Earl and the Phantomhive staff loaded themselves into the carriages. Angela finally made her way back out by then, carrying a parasol and dragging a reluctant Miss Vivian in hand. It seemed Miss Vivian had been changed out of her wool gown into a lighter dress of cotton, white and lacy with a sunhat to match. It had to be her own, seeing as how overly modest it was, but Sebastian imagined it was Angela who convinced her to change for the occasion.

"I am glad you could join us Miss Vivian." Greeted the Earl, and Miss Vivian nodded. It seemed she understood the Earl's 'insistence' on having her come along. Her curiosity was plainly written on her face though, as was her reluctance.

"Oh, hey Miss Clark! Come to join us then, eh?" Exclaimed Baldroy as he helped Angela and her into the cart.

"Yes." She smiled pleasantly, "I have not actually had a chance to see the lake yet. Angela tells me it is very lovely."

The servants and Miss Vivian chatted amiably the entire way down to the lake. Sebastian could overhear every word that went between them, and it seemed that for as much as Miss Vivian did not want to be here she was friendly enough with the others. An act, one she had no doubt practiced her whole life. A few times even she laughed. A light, airy sound. Sebastian could not help compare her cheerfulness to Angela's; fake, with a touch of something secretive behind their smiles. In regards to Angela, Sebastian hardly concerned himself, but it seemed to him the only genuine smile he had seen on Miss Vivian was the one she wore when she died in his arms…

"Come on! Hurry it up! I wanna get swimming already!" Shouted Baldroy as he and the other servants got to setting up their picnic. They had situated themselves by the changing cart while Sebastian attended to his master's comfort. A rug, chair, footstool, and a tea table were produced, and Ciel seated himself. Sebastian set himself to making the afternoon tea, watching Miss Vivian from the corner of his eyes. Since arriving at the lake, she stood aside as the others set up the picnics, not certain what to do with herself. She looked out of place in the sunlight and sand, skittish almost, as if she preferred the dusty library to the fresh air.

After the servants had finished setting up their own picnics and scrambled to get changed she finally seemed resolved into action.

"Earl Phantomhive? I have reason to believe you wish to have a word with me, yes?" Miss Vivian said curtly as she stepped up to the edge of the rug. The young lord took a sip of his tea before turning towards the secretary.

"Won't you join me, Miss Vivian?" Asked the Earl, ignoring her question. Without needing prompting, Sebastian produced another folded chair for Miss Vivian. She sat very stiffly, her hands folded in her lap as irritation rolled off of her. No doubt Sebastian's demonic presence was taking a heavy toll on her, just as it had in London, and she was as eager as he was to distance herself.

"Refreshment, Miss Vivian?" Sebastian inquired, preparing a second cup. He could imagine with her love of sweets she took quite a bit of sugar in her tea. Perhaps two lumps–

"No." She cut him off sharply, ignoring him to lean towards the young master, "Is there a reason you wished me to accompany you here?"

Sebastian felt his brow tick as he set the cup aside on the tea tray.

 _Yet another fault. She has few manners._

"Must I have one?" Ciel frowned, and Miss Vivian's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was a straightforward woman, the young earl deduced. Probably had little love for games, but he wondered if she just might play along anyway, "I am curious, I will admit. I imagine that there are not many beings on this earth that can rile a demon."

With a pointed look towards Sebastian, the Earl let slip humor into his voice as he continued.

"I've been meaning to ask; what do demon hearts taste like exactly?"

Miss Vivian, to her credit, took the question in stride. She even smirked a little - a very mischievous look indeed.

"Gamey. And a bit tough."

The young master chuckled at her answer, enjoying the irked look his demon let slip as he draped a tea towel over his arm.

"Besides my delightful company, is there something else you wanted of me?"

"Yes. A proposition." Went on the Earl, keeping his eyes on Sebastian. Ciel wanted to see how he would react to this next move, "Seeing as how you might be finding yourself without an employer soon, it might be in your best interest to seek employment elsewhere."

Miss Vivian's eyes widened in surprise, but her reaction was nothing compared to the scowl that Sebastian could not contain. So he had been right before, his master had been considering hiring Miss Vivian. Though, he had not expected the young master to ask right in front of him. The brat was purposefully baiting him.

"You want me to work for you?"

"As a secretary, yes." Clarified the Earl for the shocked Miss Vivian.

"W-why?"

"The servants I employ are worthy of the Phantomhive name, each one skilled in their own way. I can hardly pass up the opportunity to add to my unique collection. You seem quite capable, and your ability to peeve Sebastian is bonus in my opinion."

Sebastian held his composure. The more he showed his ire, the more pleasure his master would derive from his torment. And it was a torment. It was a nuisance to deal with the incompetent Phantomhive staff on a daily basis, but if Miss Vivian was added to their number...well, then Sebastian might as well be in his personal Hell. His plan to wait to act on the potential of a mate bond would be derailed as his instincts would certainly be tested to their limit against his resolve - a battle he rather not have to endure. In addition, he would have to guard his prey from a Huntress while simultaneously protect the knowledge of Miss Vivian being his possible mate from his master. And that would be too much, even for a demon of his caliber.

Sebastian and his master waited for Miss Vivian's answer. She was taking her time with it, and the demon almost believed she might be actually considering the offer seriously. Thankfully, she did not disappoint when she smiled her false smile.

"With all due respect, Earl Phantomhive, I would rather eat glass."

If the Earl was disappointed, he did not show it. He simply took another sip of his tea and said, "Shame."

Silence then awkwardly reigned for a time, interrupted only when Baldroy and Finnian finally burst from the dressing room and out into the water.

"YEAAAHHH!" Screamed the solider, running and leaping into the waves with youthful folly.

The Earl watched this display unamused, but Miss Vivian chuckled at their exuberance when Mey-Rin shyly made her appearance and they all started splashing like children.

"If that is all, my lord, I think I will go enjoy myself as well." She announced. Without waiting for a proper dismissal, she bent herself down to remove her boots. Her white stockings were next and with them in hand she stood up and made her way to the water. Lifting her dress, she waded into the lake, sighing loudly in pleasure as the waves washed over her pale and slender feet. The fetching sound reached out to Sebastian, but he ignored it to glare at the red swelling on her right ankle.

 _Careless and delicate as well._

Sebastian directed his harsh gaze towards his young master, who was now reading the paperback magazine.

"So, my suspicion was correct. You were planning on having her join the staff." He said, unable to keep the accusation out of his voice. The young master ignored it.

"Yes. Too bad she declined. I might have offered to return her sword if she accepted."

The demon arched a wry brow.

"Master, be careful with the game you are playing. _She_ is not a mere pawn." The demon warned.

While Miss Vivian was helpless now, she had nearly succeeded in breaking their contract. Sebastian had thought his master to be on the same page as him and wouldn't be willing to chance that again. His master's perverse sense of humor might find it amusing to force Sebastian to get along with a Huntress, but he seemed to be ignoring the risks involved. True, Sebastian would easily do away with Miss Vivian without a second thought if she threatened them again, but his instincts would give him a _devil_ of a time after it.

"Hm." Was the only acknowledgement Sebastian received that the young master heard him. He continued to read, sipping his tea idly. On duty still, Sebastian stood by his master's side and watched the others frolic.

Angela and Tanaka had settled themselves onto the rug for the servants' picnic, waving at the others who splashed about. Miss Vivian continued to walk alone, walking only where the waves rolled onto the shore and leaving no footprints behind. Sebastian would have almost admired the poetry of the image if it were not so cliché. When the ripples of Baldroy and Finnian's little war with Mey-Rin created waves that leapt up and caught Miss Vivian by surprise - making the white of her skirt go sheer and cling to her slender legs as she laughed- the demon looked away.

"Are you not going to bathe, young master?" He asked. As Sebastian looked back on his memories, he could not recall the boy ever enjoying a swim, and a revelation made him grin.

"Oh, I see. Is that the problem? The young master can't–"

"I don't see their making a fuss over such a little pond. Just because you can bathe doesn't make it a resort." Interrupted the Earl, unwilling to take the same mocking he doled out earlier.

"You still intend to make this place into a resort?"

"Naturally."

Sebastian arched a brow.

"What about this great demon hound?"

"Surely you know as well as I by now. This demon hound is no dog."

Sebastian smirked. For all his troublesome ways, his master was a clever one.

"Shall we discuss it further?" Continued the Earl. Seeing Miss Vivian wander her way nearer to them, the young master motioned for Sebastian to come closer. Leaning in, Sebastian took heed of his master's orders.

"Yes, very well master. You may consider it done." Sebastian nodded as he stood up and immediately made to depart. But it seemed the young master was not done tormenting him yet.

"You're very cooperative. Especially for someone who hates dogs."

"Yes," Sebastian answered, looking back over his shoulder, "I detest them. That's why I'd like to finish this as quickly as possible."

It would seem Miss Vivian heard him then, as she looked curiously over to him and his master. Their eyes meeting briefly, Sebastian turned away once more.

"Preferably before it all goes to hell."

* * *

Sebastian was gone only a little while when a commotion within the village could be heard.

"We got him! The bad dog's been caught!"

The servants – who were about to enjoy their picnic – turned curiously to see several villagers gathering, armed with pitchforks and sticks. The young Earl turned in his chair to study them with narrowed eyes. As for Vivian herself, she stopped in tracing the line between the waves and the beach, tensing as she sensed a sudden uneasiness in the air.

"The bad dog! Hurry! The punishment is about to begin!"

Angela gasped, and stood up sharply.

"Oh no!"

"What is it?" Asked the Earl.

 _Trouble. Of that there is no doubt._

"James's dog, the sixth dog, it's been caught! It's been taken to the arena to be punished!" Angela explained, looking ready to bolt after the other villagers. The Earl digested this knowledge before nodding solemnly.

"Lord Barrymore sees fit to punish anything that breaks his law, hm? Even a lowly dog?" Vivian, not far from the Earl, heard him chuckle lowly to himself, "What a pathetic man."

The Earl stood himself up, setting aside the paperback magazine she had lent him.

"Hurry and change. We shall go to the arena."

"Yes sir!" Nodded the Phantomhive servants. To their credit, they changed quickly back into their uniforms, as it would not do to traverse around in their swimming things. Vivian hesitated, wondering if it was really her place to join them, but her curiosity and sense of dread would not let her stand idly by. She slipped back on her shoes and soon enough the whole of them were running as fast as they could towards the so called arena. Their pace was not as quick as Vivian liked – for it was set to the Earl's rather slow legs, but she was not _really_ one to talk with her twisted ankle – but soon they climbed their way up the hill the arena was. It was half mooned in shape, with a wall of stone built up against the hill.

A large mob was already gathered itself, shouting and cheering as the sounds of growls and yips could be heard beyond them. Vivian craned her neck to see what was going on, and was aghast to see a chained dog – James's dog, she recognized – being torn apart by others. The crowd was frenzied as the poor thing was bitten and throttled, its fur becoming matted with its own blood. Vivian covered her mouth to force down a gag. The others remained frozen, uncertain of what to make of the casual horror before them. Unbidden, dreadful and caged memories wormed their way into Vivian's mind.

 _The demon ripped at her dress, a seer and flimsy thing that stood little chance against his claws. Red eyes leering down at her, the demon laughing at her as she collapsed before him, shocked and scared. She tried to move away, she tried to call out for help, but no one would hear her. No one would help her. This was her test after all, and if she was to survive she must pass it. She was alone. Why did she have to do this alone? Why did her father let the demon claw into her? Why couldn't he just –_

"Just let the poor thing go!" Shouted someone beside Vivian, snapping her back to the present. It was the young blond, Finnian. The others turned towards him, but the boy was already running. He came to a large stake driven into the ground and – as if it was little more than a paperweight! – picked it up. Running through the mob that parted in terror, he swatted away the dogs with one sweep.

"Stop this now!"

Yipping in pain the hounds retreated back to their masters. For such a small boy, Finny was incredibly strong! The Earl and the other Phantomhive servants ran towards him, leaving a shocked Vivian alone with Angela. Somewhere in the crowd an old woman screamed and fainted, having to be supported by others. There was little time to process what happened, but this much was obvious. A member of the Phantomhive staff had done something very, _very_ foolish. The mob's revelry at the dog's torment turned to hate, all of which they directed at the young Earl and his staff.

"They interfered!"

"They interrupted!"

"Punish them! They must be punished like bad dogs!"

"Tie them up!" Ordered Lord Barrymore, and the villagers eagerly followed it.

Vivian watched, flabbergasted, as the villagers approached the Earl and his workers with chains and rope. Where was his demon? Shouldn't he be protecting his master? Vivian hesitated to take a step forward. Should she bother interfering? As far as she was concerned, she and the Earl were not enemies, but that did not mean she was obligated to help him. His offer to hire her confused and insulted her, and not to mention he had ordered his demon to kill her! No, she didn't owe him her help or pity. But…could she really see a child – even one like the Earl – get hurt? Could she really stand by and do nothing?

 _No, never. Not while there is breath in my body!_

 _…God, I hope I don't regret this._

"Not so powerful now, are you?" Asked Lord Barrymore mockingly as he came to the front of the mob. The Earl arched a wry brow, unamused. The Phantomhive staff had been tied together to a stake, suddenly helpless, while he was chained to the stone wall. Despite his situation, he seemed very calm. Too calm. Coming before Lord Barrymore, hands clasped and lips trembling, Angela begged her lord as she and Vivian finally made their way up to the front as well.

"Master, I beg you! Show mercy this one time! These people don't deserve the punishment!"

Lord Barrymore smirked, reveling in his power.

"You have a point. This little Pomeranian is the Queen's Guard Dog. If he can be made to see reason, perhaps I'll decide to let him go."

"Perhaps?" Questioned Vivian, not bothering to hide the venom in her voice. Her volume ensured Lord Barrymore and the others heard her, and all heads turned towards her at her impudence.

"He is a noble, Lord Barrymore, not one of your villagers! Your treatment of him is dangerously close to treason!"

"Treason?!" Lord Barrymore shouted, striding over to her, "How dare you, you little Maltese?!"

 _…Maltese? I suppose this is an improvement from Poodle._

"Yes, treason!" Vivian shouted even louder, "He is here on the Queen's orders, as you know. To oppose him is to oppose the Queen herself! Do you really wish to commit yourself to such a stupidity?"

Vivian's sneer was challenging, though she did not know how well appealing to Lord Barrymore's sense of logic would work. At any rate, the Earl seemed rather surprised – or amused, she could not read him very well – at her actions to defend him. She hoped he did not get the wrong idea about her. She in no way wanted to work for him. She just had an overdeveloped and suicidal sense of justice. And, of course, it worked against her as Lord Barrymore scowled hatefully at her.

"Silence! If you oppose me, you will suffer their fate as well!" He threatened. Without warning, two pairs of arms came up behind Vivian. They wrapped themselves about her, pinning her between two villagers. It was more of the surprise than their grip that stilled Vivian. That, and one of them clumsily stepped on her foot – _goddamn, that hurt!_ – which pained her ankle. Lord Barrymore took her silence as she struggled against her captors as compliance as he turned back to the Earl.

"What say you, Earl Phantomhive?"

The Earl, despite being chained to a wall, chuckled.

"You're so pathetic. You rely on lowly tricks to retain your meager power. If there is a stubborn dog here, I'd say I'm looking at him."

Lord Barrymore balked at the insult, but then settled his scowl once more. Vivian had twisted out of the grip of one villager, and was nearly free of the other when Lord Barrymore continued.

"If that's your final choice, you can learn what happens to a dog that challenges me! Get him!"

With that, the hounds were released. They ran right for the Earl, teeth bared and ready to tear him apart.

In that moment, several things happened.

First, Vivian finally broke free. Instinct forced her to run despite the pain in her ankle, and she was able to outrun the hounds, but only by a hairsbreadth. Knowing there was nothing for it, she called forth her Divine power, ready to throw herself over the Earl. Just as she was able to call up a protective barrier about herself and the boy, the foremost hound was suddenly knocked away, its neck snapping as a projectile was aimed at its mouth. In the next second, a black clad figure landed itself before the young Earl. Vivian tried to halt, but the figure – the demon, Sebastian – swiftly sidestepped her to strike at the hounds that followed at her heels with ease.

Vivian watched, transfixed, as Sebastian straightened himself, adjusting his gloves casually.

"You cut that close." The Earl commented tersely at her side. The demon smirked.

"It won't happen again, trust me."

When the demon glanced at Vivian, she forced her Divine powers to retreat. Even though she had only called forth a spell of protection, the demon's glare was quite accusatory. No doubt he was affronted that she tried to protect his prey while he was absent. The irony caused Vivian to smirk.

"If you ask me, your demon is not very well trained." She sneered, trying to hide her breathlessness. Damn, she was pathetic right now if she couldn't run thirty feet without getting winded! But it was worth it to see the demon narrow his eyes at her as if she was the most vexing thing in his life right now.

 _The feeling is more than mutual._

"You dare to interfere dog?!" Howled Lord Barrymore indignantly as the dogs recovered themselves to stand back up and growl at Sebastian. He screamed all the louder when the animals hesitated.

"Well, what are you mangy mutts waiting for?! Kill them all now!"

The hounds hunched and growled louder. The demon turned himself from Vivian and his master, directing his glare towards the animals.

"What course, noisy growls they have. One of the reasons I despise these creatures." With that, he tiled his head forward, and his demonic presence flared itself. The dogs instantly stiffened and lowered themselves, fearfully and obediently. Vivian herself wanted to recoil, but forced herself still.

"What the hell?! What did you do?!" Cursed Lord Barrymore. Having had enough of taking a back seat, the Earl finally spoke up.

"Your pitiful farce ends here, Barrymore!" He accused, "Listen! There is no Demon Hound! It's all a lie! There's just him, an old man obsessed with power, determined to keep it no matter what!"

Vivian watched as Sebastian left her and his master to make his way towards the first dog he struck. She could now see something curious stuck inside its mouth, but she ignored it when the whine of a creature in pain captured her attention. James's dog was still alive – barely – and without a thought Vivian went over towards it. Now that the demon was here the Earl and his staff would be fine, she had no reason to worry for them. No doubt Lord Barrymore's time was up. But this creature…this creature was in pain and needed someone. She supposed she would do.

"What evidence do you have?" Asked Lord Barrymore.

"There's this." Answered Sebastian, removing what appeared to be a dog's skull from the mouth of the one he felled. He lifted it up to show it to the crowd. "We found it in your mansion. I took the liberty of confirming the teeth marks on James match the teeth marks in this skull."

Vivian barely heard the mumble of disbelief that went through the mob at the declaration. She knelt down beside the chained animal, which whined all the louder as she stroked his fur. There was something in his mouth…a piece of cloth. As Vivian lifted the dog's head gently into her lap, she coaxed the piece of cloth out of his mouth.

"Good boy. You did good. Let go boy…good boy…"

"Do you see it now? The truth behind the demon hound." Continued Sebastian, shocking the mob by pointing behind them. They gasped to see a shadow of a wolf's head against the grey clouded sky above them. Vivian only arched her brow at it before rolling her eyes. Of course that was all there was to it. Honestly, these people wouldn't know a real demon if one was standing right in front of…never mind...

"The shadow is nothing but a projection. Just a transparent trick." Sebastian monologue as he removed a small vial from his coat pocket, pouring it out its contents onto the ground, "The glowing is phosphorescent dust, sprinkled on a normal dog."

"The demon hound is merely an illusion." Shouted the Earl, not to be upstaged, "A story made up by an evil man, the man you let rule your village! Henry Barrymore!"

As the mob glanced towards its leader, the desperation in his face became apparent as he clutched at straws.

"No! It's all nonsense! You can't fool them! Where's your evidence!?"

The young Earl smirked. It was obvious to Vivian that he was looking at a cornered man. Sebastian moved towards her then, surprising her when he kneeled before her and the dog she cradled. His eyes met her briefly, and she saw the judgement in them. Now doubt he saw her pity as a fault, but she ignored the accusing glance as he reached for the piece of cloth in her hands.

"You can rest. Your duty is done. I will take it from here." He spoke to the hound, surprising Vivian with the understanding in his voice. She barely noticed when his fingers grazed her palm as he took the checkered cloth from her. James's dog whined in response, shutting its eyes. The blood on his fur was staining her white dress, but she hardly cared as she could feel its heart beginning to fail. A sick desperation took up within her, and she ignored the next part of Sebastian's speech as she held the dog closer to her.

"What fine material. I wonder why the dog was eager to hold onto it until the last moment. Interesting behavior, don't you think?" Sebastian asked as he presented the checkered piece to the mob. This was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, as Lord Barrymore's panicked expression betrayed more than any piece of evidence could.

"Wha…what the hell?!"

"Yours. A scrap of cloth from your pants. Torn off by James's dog when you attacked his master. You recognize it, yes?" Continued Sebastian, causing Lord Barrymore to flinch back. He turned then, trying to run like an animal cornered. But it was useless. He was caught by the mob that had suddenly turned against him. They trapped him, holding him and rolling the pant of one of his legs, revealing a bite upon his thigh. This was all that was needed to turn years of loyalty against Lord Barrymore as shocked murmurs went through the mob.

"Give up Barrymore! It's all over now!" Announced the Earl with a flare of finality. The villagers lifted their once beloved leader onto their shoulder, turning themselves towards the castle.

"Punish James's killer! Punish James's killer!" They chanted. No doubt they were carrying the struggling Lord Barrymore to the dungeon that lay within his own – or what was once his own – castle to incarcerate him in. How quickly things changed. Vivian might have enjoyed this distribution of true justice if it didn't come at such a price as an innocent life of a man and his dog. But…while she couldn't have done anything for James, Vivian wondered if it there might not be something yet she could do for this creature that now lay cold in her hands…

Sebastian finally freed his master, ripping open the shackles of the chains. Surprisingly Angela remained behind, freeing the Phantomhive staff from their stake. All of them were quiet, too shocked to say much at the turn of events. Finnian was the only to move after a time, slowly approaching where Vivian knelt. She looked up at him as he knelt beside her, blinking away the tears she refused to acknowledge.

"You are an amazing pup. Loyal dog, defending his master to the very end. Such a good boy. A good boy…" Whispered the boy, a shaking hand reaching out to the eerily still dog. Despite his strength, he gently touched the face of the dog. From his stance beside his master, Vivian heard the demon mutter to himself.

"There you go. Yet another reason I hate dogs."

Vivian ignored whatever he meant by that comment and gave Finnian a weak smile.

"Don't cry, Finnian. All good dogs go to heaven."

Finnian hardly looked assured by this, but Vivian chuckled to herself. She knew what was at work. She had hardly realized what her power was doing until she felt the sudden drain from herself. Why was she like this? Why did she have to feel for every little thing that felt pain? No wonder it was so easy for the Earl and his demon to trap her with the bait of an innocent being harmed. She was just that gullible. Still…Vivian had no regrets as the dog she cradled in her arms began to squirm. With a confused whine, the dog opened its eyes once more, shifting away from Vivian as it found energy enough to sit on its own.

"But as good as this dog is, I don't think it's his time yet." Vivian chuckled again. The others were flabbergasted, to say the least. Despite the blood dripping from his fur, the dog stood itself, tail wagging tiredly as it looked to the others as if expecting a treat for its good behavior.

"Wha? How?" Gasped Baldroy, looking from the dog to Vivian. She showed no telling signs, only continuing to smile as Finnian lunged forth to hug the dog.

"You're alive! Good boy!" He cheered, lifting the dog up into his arms as if he weighed nothing. Tears gathered themselves into the corners of his eyes, clashing with his gaped tooth smile. Despite the strength Vivian suspected he possessed, he held the animal gently enough as he smiled down at Vivian, "It's a miracle! Thank you Miss Clark!"

Vivian ignored his last remark to instead gesture towards the village.

"He's still weak. Return him to the kennel, I'm sure the other dog owners would be happy to take care of him."

"Right!" Nodded the boy. He turned, and Baldroy silently joined his side as they left their master, after securing his permissary nod of course.

"A miracle, huh?" The young Earl turned towards Vivian with a suspicious brow raised. She couldn't help her humored smile.

"Just a little one." She said sheepishly before trying to stand. Her face paled at the attempt and, before she could even straighten her dress, Vivian fell back to her knees. Her little 'miracle' and her attempt to protect the Earl had drained her far more than she had suspected. Her magic, like her body, could not take much taxing, and right now she was at her limit.

"Oops. Looks like I overdid it." She laughed breathlessly, able to do little else. Before her, she saw the demon sigh and shake his head.

"Self-sacrificing too. No, no. You will never do." He whispered to himself. Vivian frowned, knowing that she had been insulted but uncertain in what sense.

"If you have something to say to me demon, say it to my face."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Exclaimed Angela in the same instance the demon turned a humored glance towards Vivian. Rushing to her side, Vivian was helped up by the maid, quickly joined by Mey-Rin who had remained behind.

"Miss Clark, you will make your ankle worse! Come, we shall take you back." Fretted Angela. Seeing little point in arguing with her, Vivian allowed herself to be led back to the castle by the two maids, glancing briefly back at the demon and his master, both of whom were smirking in their victories.

* * *

The next few hours that passed were chaotic. The Earl oversaw Lord Barrymore's official arrest - taking statements and writing down those willing to be named as eye witnesses - and he along with his demon were the ones to lock the madman in the dungeon much to the satisfaction of the villagers. The cruse that had haunted them had been lifted. At least now they no longer needed to fear earning Lord Barrymore's displeasure or of being eaten by some horrible beast. No doubt this was a long time wish fulfilled for them. As for Vivian, she wished the demon had the foresight to gag his prisoner.

"Let me out! Please! It's coming for me!" Screeched Lord Barrymore from three floors below. Even as a roll of thunder and lightening overtook the sky, the man's pig like squeals assailed the four walls of Vivian's room.

"It's coming! The Demon hound! I know it's coming to get me!"

Vivian could not take his shrieking for much longer. Even though she delighted in his arrest as everyone else did, the tortured screams of a human - no matter how foul the humans was - was never a welcome sound to her. She could sense the true desperation in his voice, and wondered how long he could keep it up until his throat gave out.

 _Probably another hour. And then all he'll be able to manage is raw, throaty cries. At least he'll be quieter then._

Vivian's morbid thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at her door. A second later it opened and Angela entered. She smiled, hefting a tray carrying a bowl of steaming soup and sliced bread onto the desk Vivian sat at.

"I have your dinner, Miss Clark."

"Oh. Thank you Angela." Vivian smiled as she tried to slide out the papers she had been writing from underneath the tray. She had spent her last couple of hours writing letters and arranging for a carriage to take her back to London. Once her business here with the demon hound was concluded, Vivian wanted everything prepared ahead for her quick departure. If she was successful, which Vivian dearly hoped she would be, then in a matter of a few days she would be in Paris. There, she would hopefully find occupation as a governess or a secretary again. These plans, of course, hinged on her as of yet unpaid wage from Lord Barrymore.

This was what she was going to now ask Angela about, when the maid dashed all her hopes.

"Miss Clark, with Lord Barrymore arrested, I am afraid his assets will be frozen until after the trial. It won't be possible to pay you what you are owed at this moment."

 _Frozen? Only the Earl could do...of course._

Vivian sighed to herself. Honestly, what did she really expect to happen? To have things go smoothly? That never happened. Not for her.

"That's…fine. Thank you for telling me Angela."

 _It's not fine! I really needed that money, damn it! Now I'm going to have to pawn off what little I own just to make it back to London!_

"I'm sorry for all of this." Angela apologized, seeing the not so hidden distress on Vivian's face. Vivian coughed and schooled her expression.

"It's not your fault."

The maid smiled in a friendly manner that seemed wrong in the candlelight before turning to take her leave. Before she could close the door behind, Vivian remembered something.

"Ah, Angela? Would you mind getting me a bucket of hot water? To soak my ankle in, please?" She requested. Her ankle had only gotten worse since the two maids had dragged her back up to her room. She had to removed her shoe hours ago because the swelling became too much to bear. At this rate, Vivian wondered if she would be even able to walk tomorrow. This was what she got when she foolishly risked her life for an Earl that wouldn't even let her have the measly few pounds she was owed.

"Of course." Nodded the maid before finally departing.

Vivian then turned to her dinner. It was warm and bland, but it nonetheless helped revive Vivian some. She decided to put this energy to use and dress for bed. She wanted to be asleep early so that she could awake a few hours before sunrise. She would then go out hunting for the demon hound, and swore to herself that she would not return until she had want she had came here for.

Standing from her chair took effort, but Vivian managed it. Dragging herself over to her trunk, she pulled out her nightgown and dressing robe. Changing out of her sundress was difficult, the ties on her corset troublesome, but she soon was changed. She mourned the loss of yet another dress, as the white material was stained with the blood from James's dog and the mud she had knelt in. She was down to two dresses now. If anything else exciting happened, soon Vivian feared she would have to travel in her night things.

Sighing, Vivian hefted herself onto her bed, elevating her swollen ankle on one of the pillows. She tried to concentrate on her plans for the morning, but thoughts she had been pushing aside for the better part of the day instead took hold.

Why would the Earl offer her a position as his secretary? It simply did not make sense to her. Not unless he was telling the truth about him admiring her capabilities - as both secretary and at annoying his demon. Vivian could not decide if she was more insulted or confused by the offer. Perhaps both. She would rather cut off her hand than work with a demon, and by the disgusted look in the butler's face he seemed to feel the same about her. Perhaps the Earl was just playing a game with her then, teasing her and his butler both like a mischievous child. Still, his offer seemed sincere enough. And Vivian had no doubt that working for him would be not only interesting, but lucrative as well. That, and the dress he had the demon deliver to her was one of the finer things she had ever - if briefly - owned. She could probably be able to afford a whole trunk of them and have money to spare...

Vivian shook her head.

 _What am I thinking? I have sunk low, yes, but not that low._ She chided herself. How could she even entertain, let alone _think_ , about the Earl's offer. It would be impossible anyway. The Earl had only been taunting her after all, gloating like his demon so often did. He probably meant to tempt her and mock her for how pathetic she was if she showed signs of considering it. Well, it had worked, though Vivian would rather die than let that be known. Still, it was human to be tempted every once in a while, especially when they were weak and vulnerable as she was now. She should not be so hard on herself then.

 _"You are not a human, not any longer. You had drunk the blood of angels to become a Huntress, and you have consumed the hearts of demons to become strong. So what are you then, Miss Vivian?"_

Vivian frowned as the demon's voice echoed in her mind. She had yet to reconcile how deeply his words had affected her. It was one thing to forgive herself for falling prey to the Earl's temptation, but to allow the demon's taunts to continue to mock her was a newer low. He was just spitting blasphemies at her, trying to rile her. She was human. Her mother and father had been so, and so then was she. She was subject to human laws and faults. Yes, the blood of angels was within her, and yes...she had consumed demon flesh...something which a human should not normally survive, not to mention her coming back from the dead...

 _No! No, no, no! I'm not falling for this. He is already in my nightmares. I don't need the demon winning mind games too._

A knock at the door alerted Vivian that Angela was back.

"Come in." She called out, not bothering to open her eyes. The door creaked open and a pair of heavy shoes walked across the floor towards her bed. A shadow loomed over her then, blocking the light of the candle on her desk.

"Pardon the intrusion, Miss Vivian." The shadow spoke. Vivian's eyes flew open to see Sebastian standing at the edge of her bed.

 _Oh, of course. Perfect ending to an already terrible day._

"What are you doing here?" She accused and she sat up too quickly and scrambled away from him. Vivian struggled as she hurriedly straightened her nightgown as if it was armor. The demonic presence of the demon had become bearable to her of late, but trapped within close quarters with it now Vivian could swear it was crawling over her skin. Sebastian only smiled, holding a large china bowl in one hand and a small glass vial in another.

"Angela asked if I might assist you, as something has come up for herself. You had requested hot water for your ankle, yes?"

"Y-yes. But you–"

"Hot water for a sprained ankle will only make your condition worse. It will increase the swelling. For the first few days after a sprain is sustained, ice baths and applying peppermint oil is recommended. Only after a time is it then safe to soak in warm water infused with Epsom salt. For someone who sustains injuries on a regular basis, one might think you knew this."

Vivian's panic calmed as he placed the bowl of ice water on the floor by her bed and the vial on her desk.

"You came up here to _lecture_ me?"

"No." The demon smirked as he reached within his coat, "My master also asked me to return this to you."

Sebastian placed the paperback magazine she had lent the Earl on the desk and picked up her finished dinner tray.

"He has finished with it, and wishes to thank you for an excellent recommendation."

"I'm glad he enjoyed it." Vivian huffed. At least now she had something to read on the carriage to London. Now if only she could afford it. Slowly, she slid herself back to the edge of her bed, eyeing the china bowl with ice water suspiciously. She supposed it was safe, as the demon was not that petty a creature to try and poison her with tainted water.

 _I wouldn't put it past this one though...probably enchanted the ice to give me frostbite or something..._

"He also wished to express his disappointment with your refusal. Are you certain you won't reconsider it? Seeing as how you are without an occupation now, after all."

Though his tone kept its cordiality, Vivian wondered if she detected a hint of vexation in his voice. She let him stand in silence as she lifted the hem of her nightgown to slip her foot into the small ice bath. She hissed at the painful numbness that over came the swollen skin, but soon could feel the twisted joint begin to relax. Goosebumps traveled up from her ankle to her exposed knee, making her shiver slightly.

"I am quite sure, yes." She said bitingly, looking back up at the demon in hopes of conveying the depth of her displeasure with the game the Earl was playing with her. But Vivian was unable to catch Sebastian's gaze, as his eyes were trained on the pale skin of her leg. Vivian instinct of modesty flared then, and she hurriedly pushed the hem of her nightgown down to cover herself. She then chided herself. A demon was not like a man. He had only been looking at her leg to amuse himself with her pain.

Still, Vivian felt herself blush regardless, and quickly pressed herself to say something to move the conversation on.

"Will you and your master be leaving soon then?"

"As soon as the rain lets up. With the case closed there is nothing to keep us here. Perhaps when the season warms up a bit we shall return to see what can be done as to make this place into a resort for the Queen." Explained the demon, his tone seemingly darker to Vivian.

"A resort? Here?"

"The lake might make for something of a charm, and the water here does have a soothing quality. But yes," Smirked the demon, finally meeting her eyes again, "there is something lacking. A central attraction if you will."

"Hm." Vivian considered. She supposed the Earl had his work cut out for him, trying to make a place like this a royal attraction. Still, it did not concern her at all.

"Well, if that's all, you may leave." She ordered. The butler, though a demon he may be, was still a butler. He was a servant like any other, and could be dismissed as one.

"Of course." Smiled the demon, showing no signs of annoyance or amusement at her dismissal, "But, if this is to be goodbye…"

Sebastian was by the edge of the bed again, the black cloth of his trousers brushing against Vivian's leg as he bent himself down to her. Instinctively she leaned back, ready to grab the knife she kept under her pillow at all times. It was not an enchanted weapon, but it was better than nothing. Instead of grasping her throat like she feared he would, the demon gently took hold of her right hand in his gloved one. Bringing it to his lips, Vivian felt the faintest brush of warmth on the back of her hand as a light kiss was placed there. The cold that numbed her leg suddenly shivered up her spine, freezing Vivian's insides.

"Until we meet again, Miss Vivian." The demon said in a low and rich voice full of...something Vivian could not identify, "I look forward to seeing how much stronger you become. Perhaps you might be an actual challenge next time we duel."

The cold inside Vivian turned white hot. The smirk the demon was wearing was positively the most wicked then Vivian had ever been cursed to see, and she wanted to rid the earth of it. The air around her became charged, and her hair started to float as energy swirled around her. Her eyes practically glowed with power and fury.

 ** _"GET OUT!"_** She screamed at him a second before the power that welled up in her released itself in a blinding light. The demon had dropped her hand in time to make his escape, taking with him her dinner tray and only barely managing to leave the room before his coattails were singed. Vivian continued to scream obscenities after him, drowning out the desperate cries of Lord Barrymore floors below and the thunder above.


	8. Cleaning in the Kitchen

**Chapter 8; Cleaning in the Kitchen:**

Oh, god, I did it again. This is another long chapter folks. Again, I hope you don't mind. It would have been shorter if I had left it at a cliffhanger like I planned, but it ended up not working with the next chapter. Oh, well. I just hope you all like what this chapter has in store! Enjoy darlings!

* * *

There was a scream. One of fright and alarm. It was Mey-Rin, who had gone below to feed the prisoner. A moment of silence followed her scream, a second really, before the whole house erupted in panic and action.

Finnian and Baldroy were the first ones to the dungeon, but quickly behind them were Sebastian, the Earl, and Angela. A scene of blood greeted them. Red marked the cell floor, and the outer wall had been torn down from the outside. Someone - _something_ \- had dismantled it to get to Lord Barrymore. Sebastian tested the air, and detected the scent of wet fur and sulfur mingled with the storm outside. Secretly, he grimaced.

 _Ah, so Miss Vivian was right. There is a demon hound about. Worse, it is causing me trouble._

"Where is Lord Barrymore?" Asked Angela, hands clasped over her heart. By the terror in her voice, she already guessed what had happened to her master. Still, before any speculations could be made, a knock at the main door of the castle caused the maid and the other servants jump. Without word, Angela tore back upstairs to answer. The others followed in time to see a man barge his way through the doors, falling onto the floor in exhaustion. By this time, Miss Vivian had made her way down from her room, still in her nightclothes and clinging to the stair banister to keep her footing.

"The demon hound…the great hound is here…"

"The hound?" The Earl Phantomhive frowned down at the villager before looking towards Miss Vivian. Her expression betrayed nothing but a grimness. Before the Earl could determine how to proceed, a long, wavering howl took to the air. Angela shrieked and turned pale, and Finnian had to struggle not to do the same. As for Sebastian, he was already gathering his coat and the Earl's affects.

 _Demon hound or no, it would not do for my young master to catch cold from this storm._

This was signal enough for the others for them to rally together and follow the villager. With one last glance back to the castle, Sebastian saw Miss Vivian standing in the doorway. She was there but a moment before she took off running herself, away from the village and towards the black hills beyond. She ran swiftly despite her hurt ankle and bare feet. The demon knew that in all likelihood she was charging off to face the demon hound while it was near, heedless of her weakened condition.

 _Honestly, I find it a miracle that woman has survived this long._

Despite the slight flicker of his instincts, Sebastian could not be bothered with the foolish woman. This latest development did not bode well for him and his master. The demon could not help but feel that things were only going to become worse, and as he and the others came to the dog fighting arena where a large crowd had gathered, Sebastian's premonition regretfully came true.

"The white dog is a good dog, a good dog, good. The black dog is a bad dog, bad dog, bad. He'll eat your flesh down to the bone, down to the bone. He'll gobble you up until you're gone, until you're gone…" The villagers chanted on their knees with hands clasped in prayer. They all were facing the wall of the arena, their eyes trained whatever horror lay there. Dogs were mingled about them, their heads thrown back to balefully howl.

"What's happening?" Sebastian asked as he and the others arrived. None of the villagers broke their trance to answer him, continuing in their dreadful incantation.

"Snap out of it!" Shouted Baldroy as he grabbed a villager, unable to take the suspense, "What are you all doing?!"

In that moment lightening crashed above them all, illuminating the object of this dreadful worship. It was the crumpled form of Lord Barrymore, and given by the bloody state of his right side and the absence of light in his eyes, he was dead. Mey-Rin and Finnian shrieked in horror as the others recoiled. The Earl's expression remained neutral, but the demon could see the look of agitation in his eyes as they exchanged a glance. Sebastian stepped through the crowd to kneel beside the corpse. Lifting the mangled limb, Sebastian saw that it had been the work of teeth. In other words, this was not the work of a human.

Sebastian's expression betrayed nothing; not his vexation for having the case so suddenly reopened, or his satisfaction at seeing Lord Barrymore meet such a deserving ending. He wondered briefly if Miss Vivian would have been delighted to see this as well or if she would have felt pity for the pathetic creature that had dared to touch her.

 _At any rate, this definitely throws a wrench into the works._

Then the villagers began to beg.

"Oh great demon hound!"

"Please, please, oh please!"

"Demon hound, please, forgive us!"

At this time, it had become too much for Angela. With a small gasp, she collapsed to the ground. Finnian reacted a moment too late to help her.

"Angela!" He cried, kneeling down to her. The young Earl shook his head, having enough of this useless panic.

"Sebastian. Cover the corpse. Have Baldroy help you take it back to the castle. No use letting him rot out here in the rain." He ordered. The demon stood and nodded.

"Yes, my lord."

Baldroy glanced around before spotting a cart and immediately went over to procure it as the young Earl went on.

"Mey-Rin, Finni, see to Angela."

"Right!" They both chirped. Finnian picked Angela up, cradling her in his arms with a surprising gentleness. Mey-Rin followed after him as he took off running towards the castle.

"As for the rest of you, leave! Go home!" The young Earl shouted at the villagers, breaking some of them from their trance, "I shall have answers for you soon."

The villagers were silent at this, but a wave of mutters began as Sebastian and Baldroy loaded the corpse onto the cart. Some of the people feared the demon hound would want the rest of Lord Barrymore's body. Some blamed his death on the Earl. Some supposed the Earl would be the next victim. All this talk was ignored as the Earl and the rest of the Phantomhive staff made their way back to the castle.

Upon arriving, Sebastian decided it would be best to keep the body in the wine cellar since the dungeon had been compromised. Allowing Baldroy to take charge of this, Sebastian ushered the Earl inside to get him out of the rain. The Earl remained silent as he waited for the rest of the staff to join them in the dining room, agitation rolling off of him in waves. Despite his own, the demon could not help but feel amused with the boy's vexation.

"Well, this is unfortunate master." He mused, placing his hand to his chin in feign contemplation, "To think, all this happened and after the case was closed…I'm sure you're a bit annoyed?"

Ciel, sitting at the head of the table, deepened his scowl.

"Are you quite finished?"

The wind howled outside like an animal as the storm grew worse, and the other servants stepped a little closer towards one another. Every available light in the room was burning, as if in hope to banish their fears along with the shadows. Sebastian pushed aside any emblematic musings to continue forward.

"Where is Angela?"

"We've left her resting up in her bed for now. She seems tired, yes she does." Replied Mey-Rin, Baldroy nodded in agreement.

"It's too pitiful to watch, poor bird."

Finnian's already worried expression became worse as he glanced at the second floor above them. It did not take much deductive powers for Sebastian to tell he was absolutely enthralled with the maid. Before he could reason if it would lead to trouble, the Earl spoke.

"This village isolated itself completely from the rest of society out of fear of the demon hound's curse. I thought for certain the hound was an illusion created by Lord Barrymore so he could more firmly rule the village. But with him dead…I need to rethink things." The Earl admitted, the last note of his speech sounding bitter. No one liked to be proved wrong. But Earl not only disliked it, he could not afford it. The Queen had tasked him with solving this case. He must do so at all costs.

"He was covered in bite wounds. Maybe the villagers are right. Maybe it really was the demon hound." Suggested Baldroy. The Earl only frowned at him before glancing towards his butler, but he could not read the demon's expression.

"Maybe he was upset being blamed for Lord Henry's misdeeds." Mey-Rin proposed.

"Yes, maybe." Interjected Sebastian, "For now there's only one thing we know. It wasn't human."

The look Ciel had fixed the demon with became harsh as he tried to interpret that last sentence. He wondered what the demon meant by it, but its understanding might be out of the Earl's depth. Humans were easy enough creatures for him to understand, but if this murder had been committed by something from his butler's world...then Ciel was left to guess what was possible and what was not. And he did not like guessing. Ciel found himself wishing to have Miss Vivian at hand to talk with. She at least would be of some use, knowing the demon world as she did, but she was nowhere to be seen...

The young Earl decided there was nothing more that could be said in front of the Phantomhive staff. Standing from his chair, he made to leave.

"Everyone, go to bed. We'll deal with this mess in the morning."

"Right sir." The servants bowed.

Silently, like a shadow, Sebastian followed after the young master up the stairs. The demon did not have to guess that the young lord had questions for him. The demon himself had several buzzing in his head. How much longer must they stay here? Well, that depended on what action his master took. Why did the demon hound wish Lord Barrymore harm now rather than any other time he had used the legend to force fear into his villagers? That was a mystery that no doubt would have to be solved. And lastly, how would Miss Vivian fair against the demon hound? Would she succeed and end this case much quicker for Sebastian and his lord? Or, as it seemed inevitable with the vexing woman, would she only lead to more trouble for Sebastian? After all, he had only just said farewell to her, expecting to not see her again for years or possibly decades. Now...now they were trapped together again for an uncertain future.

 _And after such a fitting parting too. Quite a lovely sight she made, clothed in only her nightdress and gown as she cursed and tried to purify my body in her anger..._

Sebastian pushed aside the image, as well as the lingering taste of her skin on her lips - an odd flavor, one he could only compare to the bitter floral notes of a fine rosé.

Within the young Earl's guest chamber, Sebastian prepared him for bed. The master seemed bent on not being the first to speak despite his studious gaze he was fixing the demon with, and so Sebastian made it easier for the child.

"Is something the matter?" He asked as he knelt down and buttoned the Earl's sleeping shirt.

"It's about what you said earlier. How your phrased it. What you said was it wasn't human work. What if Miss Vivian is right and there is a demon here?"

Sebastian met his master's eyes, and smiled.

"It seems you're learning faster every day. I'm so very proud of you sir." His tone was ever so mocking - causing the Earl's eyes to narrow - but the praise had been somewhat sincere. It was not easy for humans to accept that something beyond their understanding was at work in their everyday life, but the young lord was nothing if not adaptable.

"But there is no need to worry." Sebastian continued as he stood up and went over to the wardrobe, "I believe Mey-Rin's thought to not be wholly incorrect. The hound was after Lord Henry. I don't believe anyone else is in danger of becoming its victim."

"That's not enough information for me to close the case." Ciel scowled. Sebastian hung the young master's clothes back inside the wardrobe, turning to look over his shoulder.

"Ah, such loyalty to your Queen." He smirked, "Quite touching really."

"That's not it. At least not all of it." Ciel chided the demon. But then an amused look overcame his solemn expression as he crossed his arms and smirked.

"You're usually so calm and steady. But this case seems to have your rattled. I'm fascinated about this _issue_ you have with dogs."

Sebastian closed the doors to the wardrobe with a little more force than was necessary.

"As I said, you learn faster every day." Sebastian said with a false smile as he glanced back at his master. It was true. While dogs were coarse at best, demon hounds were one of earth's more unsavory creatures. Smelly, loud, and prone to drool over one's leather heels...

 _Dogs were one thing, Miss Vivian another. And now a demon hound...it is more than any reasonable man might bear._

Turning fully, Sebastian clapped his hands in flourish.

"But now, young master, I believe it is time for you to retire."

The Earl shook his head, disappointing the demon.

"Not yet. I had not seen Miss Vivian since dinner. Where is she? I want to speak with her."

Sebastian, at the mention of Miss Vivian, had to contain a grimace. He had hoped that his master would not want anything of that woman. No doubt he hoped to get answers out of her regarding the demon hound. And though Sebastian lived to serve, he was a little glad that he would not be able to satisfy his master's request this time.

"I am afraid she is not here, young master."

At this news, Ciel rose an eyebrow, prompting more from him.

"Miss Vivian appeared to have left the manor when we all had gone to see what remained of Lord Barrymore."

"Whatever for?"

"To hunt, I imagine."

The young Earl sighed to himself.

"In her condition she's liable to get herself killed again."

"I could not emphatically agree more." Chuckled the demon.

"In the morning then. I want to see her." Resigned the young Earl as he made towards the bed, "I believe we will need her if we are to resolve this case."

Sebastian followed after his master, turning down the sheets and plumping the pillows for him.

"I do not think she will be willing to lend her help. The demon hound is her quarry after all. Additionally, she did seem rather insulted by your second solicitation." The demon said with a sly glance at his master.

"Really?" Yawned the boy, "I wonder if this time it was not the message, but the messenger."

At this, the demon lost all humor in his manner as he detected something in the boy's tone he did not like. The Earl's first proposition to employ Miss Vivian had been made out of curiosity for how the woman and demon might react, whereas the second the demon believed was his master taking an opportunity to mock both the Huntress and himself again. By the sound of this though, a third attempt seemed to be in the making, and Sebastian found himself running out of patience with this game.

"Do you plan on asking her again yourself then, young master? Earnestly?"

The young lord did not reply as he took his time settling upon the bed. The demon knew then the boy's answer was not going to be a taunt - as the demon was surprised at himself for hoping for - but rather a well-reasoned reply. This proved true when the Earl spoke at last, his tone stern and leaving no room for debate.

"You said it yourself, she is no mere pawn. Even though we defeated her, she gave us a run for our money. And not just anyone can rise from the dead."

Now it was the demon's turn to raise an incredulous brow.

"You forget, young master, she died trying to end our contract."

"I forget nothing." Glared the young lord, and the demon then saw what was behind the boy's thinking. While the demon did not approve of this game, not in the least, at least a glimmer of logic could be seen in it. With Miss Vivian in their grasp, there was a distinct advantage to be had. Given the rash of paranormal crimes they seemed to be coming across, a woman informed of the creatures of the night would be helpful. That was not enough for Sebastian to be convinced of his master's sincerity though. But then, another glimmer came upon him, one that much more suited his clever master.

"I see. Keep your friends close, and enemies closer, is that it? With her working for you, you think you can prevent her or anyone like her from interfering with our contract again. As if I would allow such a thing."

The look the Earl quickly schooled told the demon this was true. However, his master feigned disinterest as he yawned once more.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I doubt she will ever accept it."

"Then why keep asking?"

"Because. The annoyed look that appears on your face every time she is mentioned amuses me." Smirked the young lord, "Like you said, I'm a fast learner. You hate one another, but there's something else at work...isn't there? Something more than hate, and it's troubling you."

Sebastian revealed nothing as he smiled at his master. The brat was indeed very clever to note subtext behind their loathing. Sebastian doubted that for as clever as he was though, the boy would not stumble upon the truth of the matter. Or ever will, if the demon had any say in it.

 _Still, it would be best to finish this case as quickly as possible, and say goodbye to Miss Vivian permanently...before this brat gets any more ideas..._

Before the demon could deflect the suspicions of his lord, a loud crash below could be heard.

"What was that?" Asked the Earl, sitting up a little in alarm. The demon cocked his head to one side, listening to the scuffle down below them. The noise was distinct, and the demon sighed in exasperation when he determined the cause.

"Finnian seems to have taken it into his head to go for a walk." The butler bowed, "I shall deal with him. Goodnight, young master."

With that, the demon took the candelabra that had been lighting the room and left, securely closing the door after him. His stride long but unhurried, Sebastian made his way down to the kitchen. The foolish gardener had run out of there for some reason, and Sebastian could hear him howling like some pained pup as he ran out into the night, knocking over trees as he went. Sebastian hardly thought it necessary to chase after him, but knowing Finni, he probably left the kitchen door open or crashed through a wall.

 _And the last thing we need tonight is a drafty castle._

Approaching the kitchen, Sebastian stopped. While he could feel no draft from the darkened doorway, there seemed to be something else in the kitchen. Something that was barefoot, limping, and gasping for breath. Something that sounded like-

"Sebastian, I heard a noise." Spoke up Baldroy from behind the demon. He was armed with a pistol, aiming it at the partly open door. Sebastian turned upon the chef with a smile.

"I have already investigated it. Mice, nothing more."

Baldroy frowned at this, glancing at the kitchen doubtfully, but lowered his weapon. He knew better than to argue with Sebastian.

"R-right. Okay then. Guess we'll all still a bit jumpy, eh?"

"Indeed. Goodnight Baldroy." Dismissed the butler wearing his smile still. It fell when the blonde man was gone.

The dark of the room kept the light of the candles from reaching very far when the demon entered the kitchen, but luckily the cold light of the moon was shining through the windows opposite. Standing in front of them was a clumsy silhouette half bent over onto the counters there. Upon stepping closer to this figure, Sebastian could hear miserable gasps coming from it, as well as catch the distinct scent of blood.

 _Oh dear..._

Instantly Sebastian stiffened, his instincts screaming at the foulness of the scene before him, as if it were too dreadful for even a devil like himself to witness. His body made to move, but Sebastian remained where he was until he regained control. His aesthetic mattered more than blind instincts, even in such a moment as this.

He smirked, but the expression was forced.

"My, my. Seems you had an exciting outing." Greeted the demon as he came to the edge of the small pool of red that surrounded Miss Vivian. She tried to turn towards his voice, but her grip on the counter was lost and she ended up slipping down to the floor instead. It had been little more than an hour since they had last saw each other, but she was so altered. She was shaking and struggling to remain conscious, her body and nightgown tattered and dirty. Her state was almost comical expect for the gaping red wound that was in her left side.

"W-who's there?" Miss Vivian called out weakly. Sebastian came and knelt down in front of her, bringing the light of the candles closer to her face. Her eyes had trouble focusing on his, their vivid blue dulled with pain and exhaustion.

"You look like something a dog has drug in from the rain." The demon commented dryly. By the state she was in, Sebastian hazard to guess she had come across her demon hound but had not been successful in slaying it. Just opposite really.

"Why don't you go back to hell where you belong?" Miss Vivian bit back when she recognized him. The demon's smirk became genuine. She was not so far gone that she couldn't manage her usual hostility towards him.

 _But then, she is the kind of woman to use her last breath to curse than to plead. Even God would feel her rebuke if he tried to force her into heaven..._

Knowing Sebastian was here seemed to revive Miss Vivian enough that she attempted to stand. It was a struggle, and she succeeded only so much to lean onto the sink. This seemed to have been her goal, as she then reached out to grasp at something. Standing himself, Sebastian continued his inspection of her. She seemed to have been bitten by the hound given the tears in her side, and the most grievous of them had something white sticking out of the red. A bone it seemed, and he hoped not hers.

Miss Vivian turned herself then, and Sebastian could see she had grabbed a pair of ice tongs. He himself had left them at the sink when he had gone to make the bowl of ice for Miss Vivian's ankle but a few hours ago. She leveled the tongs with the white object stuck inside her, using her free hand to pry open the wound a little wider. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead as she braced herself before setting to work.

She cried out as the tongs gripped at the protrusion to pry it out, but then she bit her lip to silence herself. The demon could do nothing but watch as she struggled with the bone and the agony. She was shuddering from exhaustion and cold, the rain of the storm and the lost blood chilling her and causing her nightgown to cling like a second skin. Her hair was a tangle of damp locks and stray leaves, giving her all the appearance of a wild thing that had been wounded in some fierce battle…not an entirely wrong summation, really.

The demon had not seen a more evocative image before.

It was captivating, from the tremble of her hands to the tears of pain that streaked down her face. Sebastian had often mused on how similar the throes of pain were to pleasure in humans, but never had the two been warring within him. His instincts were aggrieved to see Miss Vivian in distress, while his own mind found her struggle to be a rather ravishing display.

With a scream, Miss Vivian ended the moment as she finally freed the bone from her. The tongs and bone skidded away from her, and she doubled over the sink once more. Her body could take no more of the stress, and with the last strength left in it, she retched and then collapsed. The wound, which had seeped before, was now gushing red. It would only be a matter of minutes before the Huntress bled to death.

The demon sighed to himself.

 _Really now, she's such a helpless creature. Truly unfit of to be a demon mate, mine or no._

"Do you plan on bleeding out to death? Or will you be able to bind the wound yourself?" Sebastian asked. Miss Vivian had enough consciousness left to scowl up at him.

"Careful demon. You almost sound concerned."

"I am." He agreed, surprising Miss Vivian, "Your blood is everywhere in this kitchen. It's highly unsanitary."

She rolled her eyes up at him before attempting to sit herself up. But her arms shook beneath her, and she was forced down again. Sebastian knew what had to be done, and yet hesitated. It would not be wise to let her die, as his master wished to speak to Miss Vivian in the morning. That, and the other servants would certainly find it distressing to see a cold and bloodless woman on the kitchen floor in the morning. That said, Miss Vivian would be opposed to accepting the demon's help with every fiber of her being…and Sebastian hated getting blood on his gloves.

"Very well then." The demon sighed again after a while. He set the candelabra on the table and started gathering supplies. From her position on the floor, Miss Vivian watched him as he found some clean linens, a china bowl, and a kettle.

"What are you doing?" She asked when he stepped over her to fill the kettle with water from the sink.

"Gathering what is necessary to clean and dress your wound."

"I don't want your help."

The seething tone in her voice was what the demon had expected to hear, but her revulsion was deeper than he supposed when it gave her the strength to try and stand again.

"No." Observed the demon as Miss Vivian clutched at her side as she attempted to walk away, "But you do need it."

She shot him a glare as she moved past him. The demon let her, going over to the stove and lighting it to get the kettle boiling. As he guessed, Miss Vivian did not make it very far as he heard her crash against the table.

"My master has need of you. He wants to confer with you come morning about what you know of the demon hound. Therefore," Explained the demon as he removed his tailcoat and began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, "Whether you or I like it or not, I simply cannot allow you to bleed to death. As it is, it may already be too late."

The fire – aided by Sebastian's power – had grown hot enough and was starting to boil the kettle. The demon turned from it towards Miss Vivian. She was now bent over the table, failing to stand straight. She watched him carefully as he approached, shaking her head when he motioned to the chair beside her. Having run out of patience for her stubbornness, the demon slide the chair behind her. He pushed it roughly against the back of her knees, forcing her fall into it with only a small cry of protest.

"Of course, since you have eaten seventeen demon hearts, you may just live through the night. And though it would be an interesting experiment to see if your body could endure a second death," Continued the demon as he left to fetch the kettle, glancing back at Miss Vivian "I'd rather not risk it, wouldn't you?"

She did not say anything. Her breath was coming out in pants now, and she seemed to be trying her best to not faint.

 _I must say, I rather like her this way. Breathless, shivering, practically bare...and unable to talk back._

"Good. Now that we are agreed, I shall begin." Finished the demon as he poured the hot water from the kettle into the bowl. Setting it aside, he sat himself down on the chair besides Miss Vivian's. Turning hers to face him, he began to clean the wound.

Miss Vivian seemed too far gone to respond besides closing her eyes and tightening her hands into fists. The demon was glad to work in peace, and moved as quickly as possible. Not for her sake, but for his. The scent of her blood and sweat was working something upon his instincts that he did not like. Though his touch was neither kind nor cruel, Miss Vivian would at times groan at it, the sound filling the quiet kitchen. Her skin was hot with a fever he could feel through his gloves, but her body was more resilient than Sebastian gave it credit. The wound was already trying to close itself, the power of seventeen demon hearts working to save her.

"Well, it seems you will live." Commented the demon as he finished the cleaning, "But I am afraid this is going to leave a scar."

"It will match the one you gave me then." Miss Vivian bit back, her breath steadying itself. The demon chuckled.

"Yes, quite."

The demon quickly dressed the wound with the remaining fresh linen. The nightdress was so torn that he was able move it aside enough to wrap the dressing around her middle tightly. She was such a small thing, his hands easily spanned the width of her waist - and grazed more than once the undersides of her breasts. For this, the demon was glad he kept his gloves on, otherwise his instincts might further plague him. When Sebastian sat back, finished with the work, the both of them sighed in relief.

"This will have to do. But I'm afraid you're not going to be in any shape to finish off your demon hound. Not for a while at least."

"Doesn't matter." Murmured the Huntress, "I have what I need."

The demon saw her eyes dart to a corner of the kitchen. Following them, he saw something gleaming in the dark.

"Hm?" He stood up and approached the object. He recognized it as the bone Miss Vivian had pulled from herself, only it wasn't bone. It was a large tooth, a fang the size of a dagger.

"You mean this?" He turned and asked Miss Vivian. Given the sudden panic that widened her eyes, it was important. Sebastian glanced to it again before smirking.

"Ah, I see." He chuckled as he tucked the fang into his vest.

Miss Vivian stood up abruptly then.

"Give it to me."

"Apologies, Miss Vivian, but I cannot allow you to make another demon slaying weapon for yourself."

"It's what I came for, what I bled for, give it back! It's mine!" She shouted at him, moving towards him only to falter back against the table when her knees gave. The fire in her eyes held an anger that her body could not meet.

"Careful." Sneered the demon, "Don't exert yourself."

As Miss Vivian continued to glare at him, Sebastian presumed he was going to be met with threats that she would fill out if he did not return it. Instead, her features softened as she sighed in defeat.

"What do you want from me then?"

The demon rose a brow. He did not expect this…but he certainly did not unwelcome it. Striding closer to the woman, Sebastian peered down at her with a vicious grin. Miss Vivian shied a little from him, but met his eyes without wavering.

"Please." He whispered.

Miss Vivian blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Say 'please'."

Now the fire was back in her eyes. The demon could feel a crackle of her Divine power try and reach out as if to strike him, but it was too weak to be more than a flicker over his body.

"Never." She said poisonously.

"Very well."

He turned from her. Taking the bowl, he poured the pinked water into the sink. Sebastian gathered the dirty linens and threw them into the stove fire. After that, he found a mop. Blood was everywhere in the kitchen and it would be quite a shock for Angela when she came to light the fires in the morning if he did not clean it.

Sebastian moved in silence. Miss Vivian had yet to decide what to do with herself. She simply stood and watched him, glaring with all the hate she could summon. For a human that claimed to be pious and share the blood of angels, she was more stubborn than the devil himself. And Sebastian would know. Still, it would not do to allow Miss Vivian to forge another weapon capable of slaying demons. The fang would be no equal to her sword, but Sebastian imagined it might sting a bit if she succeeded in getting it into him.

 _And there is no doubt that I would be the first the Huntress would test it on…_

"...please, damn you." Sebastian heard as he finished wiping away the last of the blood on the sink. A normal human might have missed it - it was spoken so quietly as if it had hurt her to say.

"There, was that so hard, was it?" He turned with a smirk. The demon got to meet Miss Vivian's only a brief moment before they rolled into the back of her head. She fell to the floor then, fainting dead away from exhaustion.

A fourth and final time, the demon sighed.

"Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"

* * *

Vivian started awake, gasping and clawing at the air. She had been fighting something, some creature. That was the last she remembered. But there was nothing. Just her, a tangle of sheets, and an empty room. Vivian tried to stand to get a better bearing, but a pain in her side stopped her. Looking down, Vivian hissed as she felt the bandage that covered the bite she had received from the demon hound.

 _That's right! The nasty brute! He bit me!_

Yes, it was starting to come back to her.

While the others had run to go see what was left of Lord Barrymore - as he was doubtlessly dead by the amount of blood in the dungeon - Vivian had instead run to the hills and swamp beyond to chase the demon hound. It had been close, closer than she had ever felt it before. It was only twenty minutes until she caught up to it, and fifteen more until she and it were locked in battle. Vivian had nearly managed to hold her own with only her Divine powers, but then the demon hound had her in its jaws. She would have been swallowed if she had not stabbed at its' eye. The creature howled in pain and dropped her before running away, allowing Vivian to drag herself back from the swamp to the castle. Normally she would have considered this a defeat, but she had managed to get one of the demon hound's fangs stuck inside her.

 _And from it, I will be able to forge a new weapon...but, where is it?_

Vivian stood up slowly and looked around. Had she hid it somewhere? Under her pillow maybe? No...wait, she removed it in the kitchen. She used a pair of ice tongs to get it out of her. But then...

 _Oh, damn._

But then Sebastian cleaned and dressed her wound and took the fang from her.

Instantly, a flood of panic overcame Vivian as she looked down at herself. She was not wearing the same nightgown as last night – it had been torn to shreds while this one was clean and white. Speaking of clean, Vivian also did not have a speck of dirt on herself either even though she had been slathered in mud from head to toe. So...in conclusion, the situation had been this: _Not only did the demon clean and dress her wound and take the fang, he also had cleaned her body, changed her clothes, and tucked her into bed..._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 ** _...THAT BASTARD! HE'S DEAD!_**

At that time there was a knock at the door.

 _"WHO'S THERE?!"_ Vivian screamed. There was a yelp from the other side, a female voice, but Vivian still was wary.

"E-excuse me? Miss? It's Mey-Rin. I've come to help you dress." The voice explained.

 _Mey-Rin...yes, the Phantomhive maid_ , Vivian remembered, calming some. As the maid had not helped her dress before, Vivian could only assume it was because the Earl ordered her especially to do so today...which led to the inevitable reasoning that the Earl knew Vivian would not be able to do it herself because the demon had informed him she had been wounded. Vivian was about to shout at the maid to go away, but then thought better of it. Her side was on fire, and it was painful enough just to breathe. It would be better to let the maid do it before Sebastian came up insisting he do it...and the maid was a hundred - _no_ \- a thousand times more preferred than the demon.

Vivian took a deep breath, and tried her best to calm her rage.

 _That will only happen when I tear out his black heart!_

"Come in." Vivian said through clenched teeth. The door opened hesitantly, and in popped the red-haired maid.

"Good afternoon Miss Clark." She greeted. Vivian wondered what happened to 'Good morning'.

 _Must have slept through it...which considering that I almost died again last night it is not too surprising._

"Vivian, if you please." She returned. The maid curtseyed.

"Of course. And, um..."

The maid then brought something out from behind her back. It was a small cane.

"My master hopes you will use this. He is concerned for your injuries yesterday, and he hopes you will join him for afternoon tea once you are dressed."

Vivian's surprise at this was nothing small. If the Earl had been anybody else, she would have thought these actions to be extraordinary kind. Now she wondered if the boy just might be trying to mock her or soften her up so she would accept his offer to work for him. Not that either of it mattered, because Vivian really wasn't in a position to refuse. Nodding her acceptance, the maid leaned the cane against the desk before setting herself to work.

Opening the wardrobe the maid took out the first dress she saw - it was the only one that Vivian owned, the others ruined. She laid it on the bed and fetched the necessary underthings; stockings, shoes, bloomers, chemise, and corset. Wordlessly, the maid undressed Vivian. Having been raised with servants attending her every need, Vivian was used to this kind of service, although there was an awkward pause when the maid spied the bandage around her middle. But the maid quickly moved on, more embarrassed than Vivian was even though she was the one stark naked.

"You are Mey-Rin, right?" Vivian asked, hoping to lessen the maid's embarrassment.

"Yes?"

"Do you like the Earl? Is he…good?" Vivian said the last word hesitantly, but she was just trying to make conversation. The Earl was as good topic as any. The maid perked up at the question, her cockney accent on full display when she answered.

"Oh, yes! Indeed he is! He gave me these glasses you see!"

"Yes. And..." Vivian again paused, moving on to a more contentious topic, "And the butler? Does he treat you well?"

"Yes, most certainly!" Vigorously nodded the maid, "Sebastian trained us all, yes he did. Turned us into proper servants."

Vivian frowned in thought.

"You mean you weren't a maid until the Earl hired you?"

"Uh, well..." The maid gushed, but then shook her head and stepped back from Vivian, "There, all done Miss! Pretty as a painting!"

Vivian, now fully dressed in her blue wool gown, looked herself over in the hand mirror the maid brought over. She grimaced at what she saw.

 _If that painting was of one of the Battle of Waterloo, maybe._

Her face was ashen and bruised. Her posture was crooked thanks to her ankle and aching side, and worse her hair was a disheveled mess. Vivian was about to ask the maid if she might be able to help her tame it with some pins, when she spied something gleaming behind her in the mirror. Turning sharply, Vivian gasped to see the fang - _the fang the demon took_ \- laying on her bedside table.

 _H-how? Did the demon leave it accidentally behind when he brought me to my room? No...no, he's not the kind to allow a mistake like that. Then...how?_

Vivian didn't have time for these questions. The maid was waiting curiously for her approval, which Vivian gave with a wide smile.

"Thank you Mey-Rin. You can go and tell your master I'll be down in a moment."

"Of course, Miss Vivian." Curtseyed the maid. After Mey-Rin left, Vivian immediately grabbed the fang. Turning it this way and that, she couldn't see any flaw or tampering within it. And given its careful positioning, the demon had placed it there for her to find on purpose.

Why? Had her forced 'please' been enough to have him return it to her? No. No, there had to be some sort of game to this. The very same game that had the demon treat her wounds last night and go so far to put her in her own bed. Perhaps it was his master's orders. Perhaps the demon wanted to show Vivian that if she slacked for one moment, he would be able to take great advantage of her weakness. Yes, this had to be a warning to Vivian. A warning to watch her back, because the demon was looking forward to her being a challenge the next time they battled - when or wherever that might be.

 _Damn that demon. He think he can intimidate me, then he will be sorely proven wrong!_

Calmed and poised after several minutes of reflection, Vivian tucked the fang into her dress for safe keeping. She was about to walk out, when she remembered the cane. Grabbing it, she slowly made her way to the parlor where tea was no doubt being served. The cane must have personally belonged to the Earl, because even with Vivian's petite height it was two inches too short for her. But it did help, especially when she came to the stairs.

She made it down in time to see the young gardener, Finnian, tear out of the parlor and through the front door, nearly making it come off its hinges with his strength.

 _Well...I suppose he's in a hurry._

Coming to the parlor, a clamor inside made Vivian pause just outside the doorway.

"Come on, Sebastian! Let's go help him!" Shouted a man - Baldroy Vivian assumed.

"Well, uh…" Hesitated the demon. Even just hearing his voice had Vivian clenching a fist to her side.

"Hurry!" Insisted the chef, "Are you red blooded man or aren't you?!"

When silence met his question, Vivian dared to push open the parlor door open a little wider. There, the Earl sat at the head of the table with the demon at his side. As the demon refused to move, the chef seemed to growl.

"Fine then! Let's go Mey-Rin!"

"Sir, yes sir!" She saluted.

"Where's Tanka?"

"Ho! Ho!" Answered the small man as he ran in place, sporting a shotgun over his shoulder. Baldroy grinned at this, raising a fist to the sky.

"That's the spirit! Okay, let's move out men!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Ho, ho, ho, ho!"

All three cheered before they marched their way past Vivian and out the manor. Vivian frowned after them, but then shook her head before turning back towards the parlor.

"You know, I'm quite interested." The young Earl asked after patting his lips with a napkin, "What color is your blood?"

The boy's tone was humor filled, but the demon did not appear to find the question as entertaining. He did not have a chance to answer it though, as Vivian took the opportunity for herself.

"It's black. Though in certain lights it can take the appearance of a red shine." She explained as she walked over to the table. By way of greeting, the young Earl stood up from the table. She returned the polite nod he gave her before turning towards Sebastian.

"Demon. This makes the second time you have touched my body while I slept." She accused with venom in her voice, "Were it not for my agreement with your master, I would take immense pleasure in tearing your body apart until all that remained of you was a black stain on the floor."

Both the Earl and the demon seemed taken aback by this hateful allegation, but the butler recovered quickly enough to give Vivian an untroubled smile. He knew her threat to be an empty one, but the anger that made her tremble as she stood seemed to amuse him highly.

"Noted."

 _Rot in hell you perverted, boorish, poisonous, fopdoodled, unprincipled, vulgar, depraved, pig-headed, debauched, callous, tactless bespawler!_

"Is there something I missed?" Vivian moved on with clenched teeth, "Why is everyone running out of here like a madman?"

"Angela has gone to the fen to pick herbs. The others are worried for her safety, what with the demon hound and everything." Answered the Earl. Vivian frowned.

"Rather foolish of her. You'd think she'd know better."

The Earl nodded before smiling.

"And how are you Miss Vivian? Sebastian informed me you had quite the _busy_ night."

"I'm still standing." She sighed, glancing towards the cane in her hands before reluctantly adding, "I suppose I have you to thank for that."

This thanks was meant for the Earl for the cane, and yet Vivian could not help but meet the demon's eyes when she said it. He gave her a knowing smirk, which immediately made Vivian red with mortification and rage. By his look she could almost feel the hands he had laid on her while cleaning her unconscious body, making her skin crawl and stomach churn.

"Yes. You may keep it." Nodded the Earl, missing the silent altercation. Vivian shook her head and focused herself.

"I do apologize for my lateness, but your butler said last night that you wanted to speak to me about the demon hound?"

"Yes. At this point in time, any information you have would be most useful, if you would be so generous to share. Have a seat"

Vivian strode over to the chair the Earl gestured to. Before Sebastian could push it back for her, she had already seated herself. The demon then proceeded to pour her a cup of tea, which when he placed it in front of her, Vivian pushed it away She knew these actions to be petty, but still, the annoyed frown that it produced on the demon was more than satisfactory.

The Earl leaned back in his chair expectantly, but Vivian remained silent, wondering how much she should reveal about the demon hound to the young Earl. She supposed it didn't matter now. She had what she wanted from the demon hound, and more than likely the Earl was going to have his butler kill the thing in order to bring satisfaction to the Queen. So then, for now at least, they were on the same side.

"Demon hounds are not very different from dogs really." She began, "They behave mostly the same, only a demon hound can be more intelligent and aggressive. They also have territories, and they defend them fiercely. This one lives in the swamp not far from the village, past the graveyard and near some ancient ruins. Roman, if my history is correct."

"I see. And does this demon hound have a grudge against Lord Barrymore you think?"

Vivian shrugged.

"I don't see why. As intelligent as they are, I doubt a demon hound would care that its legend was being used for ill. And given the half-eaten bodies that had been dumped in the swamp, this hound seemed to be benefiting from Lord Barrymore's murders. Fresh corpses are like dog treats to them."

Sebastian puts his hand to his chin in contemplation at this information, as if an idea has struck him.

"Dog treats, eh?" He murmured. The Earl turned to his demon with a smirk.

"At any rate, it looks as if we do need to hurry now."

Sebastian audibly sighed at this, and Vivian wondered at this show of emotion. He seemed almost reluctant to confront the demon hound. Perhaps...he did not like dogs?

"Go out there and put on a good show for me." Ordered the Earl after taking one final sip of his tea, "Am I clear?"

The demon placed a hand on his heart and bowed.

"Perfectly, my young lord."

The Earl Phantomhive stood from his chair then, and bowed to Vivian.

"If you will excuse me, Miss Vivian. I hate to leave you unattended, but I do not think it wise for you to accompany with your health being what it is. We shall return quickly I think, all things permitting."

"Of course." Vivian nodded, surprised at such courtesy, "Happy hunting, Earl Phantomhive."

The boy almost smiled at her for that, but before Vivian could decide if it was genuine or not the demon swept the Earl away. Together, the two of them put on their coats and departed.

Vivian almost expected the demon to glance back at her before departing, but no such thing happened when the demon shut the main doors of the castle behind him and his master. Vivian felt the air about her lighten, and she breathed more freely now that the butler's demonic presence was retreating.

When Vivian stood herself up from the table, a thought occurred to her.

"Hm. I wonder if I should have told them this demon hound breathes fire...oh well." She sighed. There was no time for that now. Not when she had so much to do, and so little time to do it in.

The Earl expected Vivian to be here when he returned from what no doubt both he and the butler anticipated to be a successful hunt of the demon hound. Whether they were or not, one thing was for sure - Vivian would be long gone before they returned. She had what she needed, and though she hated to leave a job half way finished, she had little choice but to leave the demon hound to the Earl.

Making her way back upstairs to her room, Vivian began to pack. There wasn't much, but what little she had she would need. Her valise would be easy enough for her to carry, even with her twisted ankle and torn side. She debated taking the cane with her, but her grip only tightened around it when she tried to set it aside. It would have its uses, and besides, it would be good to have a reminder of the Earl and his demon - _as if she could ever forget_ \- so that she would remember to pay them back for their 'generosity' one day. Hurt for hurt, scar for scar, humiliations galore...

The thought of the demon broken and bleeding especially had Vivian chuckling to herself as she made her way back down the stairs.

But the Earl Vivian felt she should forgive - it felt necessary almost. He was a child after all, regardless if he was contracted to a demon. To hurt or even have vengeful feelings against even a child like him was not in Vivian's nature, and definitely not the kind of behavior to be allowed in a Divine servant such as herself. Besides, in another life, if she and the Earl might have met under better circumstances, they just might have been close acquaintances. They were not so different after all...she gave away her salvation for power just as he had traded his soul for a demon...but then again, maybe not. He was a bit of a brat who liked games a bit too much.

 _And here I never even learned how to play chess. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have been tricked by a twelve year old..._

It didn't matter. In a few moments Vivian would make her way into the village. From there, she would sell the last of her valuable possessions and hire a carriage to take her to London. This would hopefully only take her an hour or two at the most, and once in the city she would make her way to another one of her emergency stashes for some extra coins and a change of clothes. Then it would only be a matter of trying purchase her way onto a boat to Paris. Maybe she might be able to sell the Earl's cane, as it did look to have cost a pretty penny.

Vivian's head was filled with plans in the making when she stepped out of the castle. The late afternoon sun was slowly sinking into evening, warming her face and making her feel hopeful. She might just make her escape without another altercation with the Earl and his demon. Not that she really expected one. Their business with one another was done and they had agreed to part amiably. She doubted the Earl would take offense to her sneaking off like this, but she wondered if the demon would let her slip away so easily. There seemed to be something left unsaid between them. Vivian could only imagine more threats that could be exchanged, but then she had to wonder about the fang…

Why had Sebastian given it to her? She almost wanted to turn around and ask him. The longer she thought about it, him leaving it behind made no sense. Not even as a warning to her, or some cruel jest to mock her with. And - as much as this thought left a foul taste in her mouth - it had not been necessary for him to care for her so thoroughly. Yes, he said that he had cleaned and dressed her wound so that she could live to service his master's curiosity. But washing her body, dressing her in fresh clothes, tucking her into bed...it had been more than what was necessary to fulfill his master's request. It would have been more in line with his character to leave her unconscious on the kitchen floor. So why hadn't he?

 _It almost as if he...almost...I don't even know..._

Vivian resolved to leave the matter at that. She would not waste any more thoughts on the demon, not until she was strong enough to kill him. It might take years - after which the Earl Phantomhive's contract might be fulfilled - or decades until she surpassed the demon. Vivian wondered how she might age, if she would look so different that the demon might not recognize her until it was too late. And what if he changed his face too? Demons often took whatever form pleases their masters, so would Vivian even be able to find him? The demon seemed as eager for another duel as she was, so perhaps he might make it easy for her, waiting for her like a long lost lover...

 _Enough. The Divine will provide. We shall find one another again, and finish what was started at the beginning of time. And I'll finally get to wipe off that smug smirk off his face!_

Vivian had by now made her way down to the village. Her side was throbbing and itched under the dressing, but she was happy that her ankle had so far managed to keep a decent pace. Looking around though, not a single person could be found. The village was not so very large, but normally at this time it was still busy. Dogs were wandering everywhere, slinking past Vivian as she walked by and whining for their masters.

Vivian began to worry. If she couldn't find anyone to drive her to London, she might just be forced to walk the road. It wouldn't be ideal, but it would better than staying in this village another night. With a sigh, she started towards the road out of the village, but then the sound of a carriage stilled her. Excitement broke over her.

 _Salvation at last!_

Turning a corner, Vivian saw a coach on the main village road. It was a closed carriage of ebony wood and gilded wheels. There was no crest on the side, but it obviously belonged to a family of wealth. Perhaps someone heard that the Earl was turning this place into a spa for the Queen and decided to visit? Vivian could see no other reason why anyone of wealth would want to visit this hell hole.

The driver, a man wearing an expensive suit and top hat, saw Vivian and turned the horses towards her. She allowed herself hope that maybe she could convince the family allow her to borrow their coach and tried to think of a heart wrenching enough lie to tell.

"Ah, finally! We've been looking all over this village and had not come across a soul!" Greeted the driver, his accent of better breeding than she would imagine for a coachman, "Young lady, might you tell us how to get to Barrymore Castle? I'm afraid we're a bit lost."

"You only need to follow the main road." Vivian answered, pointing the way, "However, if you're looking for Lord Barrymore, I'm afraid you're too late. He's been recently murdered you see."

"How terrible." Said the driver as he shook his head. The brim of his hat was pulled too low for Vivian to see his face clearly, but it seemed to her that he was not really grieved. Vivian craned her neck to try and see who was inside the carriage, but the drawn curtains prevented her. She was going to take her chance still and ask for the kindness of a ride, when a voice inside spoke up.

"Yes, terrible. Though, it does make our task easier."

Vivian nearly dropped her valise. The voice...it sounded so familiar. And yet, no. Impossible.

The carriage door opened then, and out stepped a woman. She was in her middling years, with tidy hair and a seemingly kind face. But Vivian felt her blood run cold at the sight of her.

"…Mrs. Hamish?" She whispered in confusion.

It was. Mrs. Hamish, one of the head typists for Morgan's & Son's. She was exactly as Vivian remembered her, down to her plain blouse and brown skirt. It seemed impossible for them to meet here, and yet here she was - smiling warmly at Vivian the same way she always did when she arrived at work.

"Hello Miss Carter. Or, is it Miss Clark now?" The older woman laughed, the corner of her eyes crinkling, "Well, why don't we just forget the false identities and call one another Lady Cartwright and Mrs. Turner."

 _Lady Cartwright? How did she...of course._

Vivian's mind, frozen by the shock of this, suddenly whirled. Impossible coincidence turned into something far more sinister. There was only one possible explanation for all of this. A thousand questions raced in her mind, but Vivian kept them at bay to instead straighten herself to a more proud stance.

"Turner…" Vivian hissed, "You work for the Order of the Hunt. You and your husband."

They had only been a name to Vivian, one to bless in her prayers for their service when she was younger. They were not of noble birth, but their service to the Order had bought them a higher style of life than their births would have. In other words, they were lackeys.

"Yes. I regret that we had not met before I had been tasked to keep an eye on you while you enjoyed your, _ahem_ , little sabbatical from the Order." The women, Mrs. Turner, explained derisively.

Vivian felt her stomach churn. She wanted to dismiss what Mrs. Turner said as some kind of trick, but the hardness in her eyes revealed it wasn't. Vivian's mind quickly ran over every memory of the past year and a half, and growled when things that she should have notice before only now became obvious. Her being hired by Mr. Morgan despite her lack of experience...the Butcher left to work undisturbed until the Queen's Guard Dog got involved...her father never attempting to drag her back home. She had been tricked. It had all been a lie. Her freedom, every choice, every plan she made...none of it mattered. Vivian's chest began to heave, and she had to choke back a sob. She had endured torture, death, and yet somehow this felt a hundred times worse.

 _Of course...how naive to think they would have let me go so easily. I'm the worst kind of fool..._

"Why?" Vivian whispered as Mrs. Turner stepped closer. The woman laughed again, grating Vivian's ears.

"You cannot think we would be so cruel as to abandon you the same as abandoned us? No, no. We wanted to make certain you were safe, dear girl."

"No." Vivian shook her head, clenching her hand tighter around the handle of her valise to keep it from trembling, "No, I mean why go through the farce? Why have me think I was free of the Order and let me–"

"Let you waste time working for that oaf Mr. Morgan and live in a hovel when you could be fulfilling your Divine purpose in the luxury of Cartwright Manor?" Interrupted Mrs. Turner, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "Yes, I do see what you mean. Well, your father thought it would be best to let you be on your own for a while. To let you see how the real world worked until you grew sick for home. And as you did not slack from your duties as a Huntress, he hardly thought it necessary to take you back in against your will."

"But you're here now." Vivian added, her frustration and hatred deadening her voice.

"Yes…you see, after we lost track of you in London, we became very concerned. When it was discovered that you had been killed, we wept bitterly."

Vivian scoffed. She somehow doubted that. They were probably all bickering amongst themselves on how to replace her.

"Given the violent manner of your death, we assumed it was a demon. A hunt gone wrong. Your father was going to have you reburied in the family catacombs, but when he sent men to collect you from that shabby graveyard in London we discovered you were gone yet again."

Now this surprised Vivian. Not that they were wrong - a demon had killed her after all. But she assumed from the careful watch they had over her the Order might have at least suspected the Earl Phantomhive of her murder. It hardly mattered though, neither to Vivian or the Order it seemed, as Mrs. Turner's smile grew nefarious.

"So…we're wondering…Lady Cartwright, how are you feeling?"

"Like hell." Vivian growled.

"Yes," Nodded Mrs. Turner solemnly, "I imagine you must. Who knew polluting your holy body with such filth as demon hearts would have such a beneficial value?"

Here, Vivian couldn't help herself. She threw back her head and laughed. For a moment, the confusion and frustration of her current situation left for her appreciation of irony. Mrs. Turner lost her smile to look at Vivian as if she was a madwoman - something not so far from the truth, really.

"Aren't you being a little hypocritical?" Vivian asked when she had her breath back. Mrs. Turner tilted her head.

"Hm? What do you mean dear?"

"So," Vivian chuckled again, "you work for the Order, and yet you're not trusted with their full secrets? You must not be all that trusted by my father."

Mrs. Turner's kind face turned poisonous then, and Vivian could tell she hit a nerve. After all, nearly two years of faithful service by acting nanny to a Huntress, Mrs. Turner probably expected better regard from the Order. But then, if she had been in charge of taking care of Vivian, no doubt Lord Cartwright punished Mrs. Turner most _severely_ for losing her. Perhaps that was why Mr. Turner was not with her…

"Trusted enough to have been tasked with finding you and bringing you back, though it was only too easy to follow your sloppy trail." Bit back Mrs. Turner, "You've had your fun, but the Order is not going to risk losing you again."

Vivian lost all signs of mirth and arched a brow at the woman.

"I'm never returning to that damned house." She said challengingly. Mrs. Turner may work for the Order, but neither she nor the driver would be any match against Vivian, even with her wounded. But Mrs. Turner did not seem intimidated.

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice." She said before snapping her fingers.

From behind them, the carriage shifted as two gentlemen stepped out of it. Vivian had not even noticed them, clothed in black from head to foot as they were. Their faces were hidden behind white Venetian-like masks, their painted lips smiling as they approached Vivian. Vivian shuddered at the sight of them - memories of long ago dragging themselves out at such an inconvenient time - and she all but shrieked when she noticed what was in their hands. Chains, one for each gentlemen, ending in a thick shackle. They were silver in color, shining coldly under the evening sun. To others, they had the appearance of normality, but Vivian knew what they truly were.

 _Oh, God, no. Not again, please…_

She had no choice. She would never be strong enough to fight them.

She dropped the cane and her valise, turned, and ran like a frightened child.

* * *

The evening sun was beginning to set, coloring the dreary land in red and oranges. It was nearly a pretty scene, but Sebastian was in no mood to appreciate its aesthetic. Especially with the human form of the demon hound lapping up at him. Pushing the fowl creature away from him yet again, Sebastian cleared his throat.

"My lord, shall I make preparations to return to London tomorrow?" He asked his master, who walked a little ways in front of the strange band that consisted of the Phantomhive staff, Angela, and the demon hound - regrettably alive and known as Pluto.

"No. We'll stay a few extra days to see that the construction of the bath house is properly underway."

"Of course." Sighed Sebastian. This blackened his already foul mood.

When he and his master had set out to kill the demon hound this afternoon, Sebastian hardly expected that they would end up adopting it into the household. The fact that his master had ordered Sebastian to _train_ the beast at Angela's request infuriated the demon to no end. He had done as he was bid, he had 'put on a good show' and even managed to find a hot spring to be an attraction for the Queen's spa. Of course, if he couldn't have done that much, what kind of butler would he be? But that this was the result of following his master's orders to the letter, this _thing_ yipping at his heels like an excited puppy and now his responsibility...no, it was almost too much to bear.

 _The brat's soul had better be worth all this._

Worse than the demon hound was the idea of staying a few more days. True, Sebastian could see the necessity of overseeing the bath house. The villagers seemed all too eager to be underway with construction, but without their mayor or Lord, they would need a guiding hand in doing things properly. The Lord Phantomhive would have to stay a time if this place was to be changed suitably enough for the Queen's standards. _Especially_ with these idiotic villagers, whom the Phantomhive staff and company had left behind as they wept in their swimming trunks at the geyser thinking it meant the end of the demon hound's curse...even though it had been there, underground, all along.

 _Honestly, the stupidity of humans knows no depth..._

While this might be necessary, it would also mean that Sebastian would have to live in this village of dogs for a longer time than anticipated...as well as share a roof with Miss Vivian. He had so far managed to keep his instincts at bay, and last night's incident had been a true test of his control. Even with her naked and shivering before him as he bathed and changed her, he felt no irresistible pull to claim her.

Yes, her scent was enticing, as was the softness of her skin, but it was more irritating to Sebastian to have reduce himself to her caretaker than take advantage of her imposition. She was still only a _potential_ mate to him after all, nothing more, and unworthy of even that much – far too helpless, sentimental, and willful. But the idea of being around her longer was not ideal. So far Sebastian had managed to stave off his instincts, but with his master getting suspicious and Miss Vivian determined to be a headstrong fool bent on getting herself killed, it was only a matter of time until Sebastian would have his hand forced. As of yet, he did not know what that could mean, but it would most certainly not be pretty...

"Hey, what's that?" Asked Baldroy as they approached the village.

Pluto, who had been following after Sebastian's heels, stopped and stood to sniff the air as they entered it, causing Mey-Rin behind him to choke on her embarrassment at his nakedness once more.

Sebastian shook his head in frustration. He had heard of some demon hounds being able to take human form, but they only did so to lure in victims before making them prey. That this one had, as Angela badly put it 'had a habit of turning human when excited', was going to be the utmost of inconveniences.

 _That, and its ability to breathe fire. It's going to ruin the drapes in the Phantomhive Manor, I just know it._

"A carriage." Answered Finnian as he looked in the same direction Baldroy was, "It looks fancy too!"

At this, the others finally took notice of it. There was indeed a carriage before them, blocking the main road through the village. It was black as ebony with two large horses matching in hue. By the looks of it, it had to belong to a family of wealth. There was no symbol to discern who owned it, but nonetheless its presence here was curious. Especially with no driver to be seen and its doors left open as if in hurry...

"Angela, was Lord Barrymore expecting a guest besides myself?" Asked the Earl as they approached it. It was one of the few logical explanations, but Sebastian somehow doubted it. The maid proved this doubt correct by shaking her head.

"No sir, not to my knowledge."

"Then who–" The Earl was stopped from saying more as a cry tore through the air.

"No!"

It had come from the other side of the carriage, the sounds of a violent struggle following it. Briefly the Earl and Sebastian exchanged glances before hurrying themselves over. The others followed, just as curious, but none of them had been prepared for what awaited them on the other side.

"What the-?!" Gasped Baldroy.

Near to a discarded valise and a cane was a huddled group of three gentlemen, all dressed in black with two wearing white masks, and a woman. Sebastian quickly remembered her as Mrs. Hamish, from Morgan's & Son's. Before he could question her appearance in such a place, there was yet another cry, and this time Sebastian recognized from whose throat it was being torn from.

"Let me go!"

"Stop struggling, Lady Cartwright. It is for your own good." Said Mrs. Hamish tersely.

 _"I'll die first!"_

Miss Vivian voice sounded raw and panicked, but even worse was the sight of her when she tried to push past the masked men. Her dress was torn, her hair disheveled, as if she had fallen badly. More worrisome was the red seeping through her side, a telltale sign that her wound had reopened itself, and the silver shackles clasped to her wrists. She struggled against the chains, each end held by one of the masked men, but her strength seemed to have left her. She was muttering Latin, producing white sparks from her hands. Sebastian deduced that she was trying to use her Divine magic, but it was of no use. It was as if the shackles were draining her power.

 _Ah, of_ course, Realized the demon, _those are Chains of the Holy, said to be the only things in existence to bind Angels._

Miss Vivian was thrashing like some wild thing, face red with effort and her chest heaving in panic. The men were dragging Miss Vivian towards the carriage against her will, but she tried once more to lunge out of their grip. For this effort she was kicked in her wounded side by the one man not wearing a mask, and she cried out as tears were forced from her eyes.

Sebastian's hackles were instantly raised, and his fists became clenched. He could feel his fangs lengthening themselves, his eyes narrowing to slits. A sudden urge to rip the strangers apart filled his black heart, but Sebastian forced himself to regain control.

This would never do. Never. He had conquered his bondage to hunger to pursue better meals than to blindly feast. He would not allow himself to be subjected to another instinct, even if it pained him not to act to protect Miss Vivian. His aesthetic mattered more than blind instincts, even in such a moment as this. Even though it was worse a sight than when Lord Barrymore had dared to touch her, worse than when Sebastian found her nearly bleeding to death last night...

"What is going on here?!" Stepped forward the young Earl. All but Mrs. Hamish ignored him as she turned and smiled.

"Oh, Earl Phantomhive. What a pleasure to meet you."

The Earl frowned at her familiarity.

"Who are you?"

"She is Mrs. Hamish, an employee of Morgan's & Son's." Answered Sebastian, unable to keep the dark growl out of his voice.

The old woman laughed and shook her head at this.

"I'm afraid you're mistake, sir. I'm Mrs. Turner, head nurse at London's Sanitarium for Women. Lady Cartwright here is a patient of mine that had escaped. I am so sorry if she troubled you." She lied easily. Behind her, Miss Vivian continued to struggle against her captors. She did indeed look like a madwoman, raving and swearing as she was, but the Earl only arched a brow.

"Lady Cartwright?"

The name was familiar to him, but Ciel could not say where he had heard it. Mrs. Hamish - or Turner he supposed - continue to smile.

"Yes. As you can see, she is burdened with a severe case of hysteria. She is highly dangerous, so please let us take care of her."

The Earl turned from Mrs. Turner to look over Miss Vivian. It was as obvious to him as it was to the demon what was really going on here. By the way Miss Vivian was reacting, as well as her sudden helplessness, these strangers had to be of the Order of the Hunt. The nail in the coffin was the ring that Mrs. Turner wore on her right hand, bearing the same symbol as the one found in Miss Vivian's room. And by Miss Vivian's resistance, she would indeed rather die than be forced into the carriage with them.

 _And if she continues to struggle like that, the wound on her side will see to it that she will._ Growled the demon to himself.

Sebastian looked down to his master, wondering at what kind of order would be made. His master had promised to part ways with Miss Vivian amiably, but that did not include protecting her from her own enemies. This was her own fight, and the Earl might not be in the mood to interfere. Still, Sebastian expected no less of his master when he finally spoke, his voice full of command.

"Sebastian, move."

"Yes, my lord." Nodded the demon.

Never had it been easier for the demon to obey an order. He ran, closing the distance between him and Miss Vivian in a second. She did not seem to see him, and continued to struggle while Sebastian took advantage of the masked men's surprise at his appearance. Quick jabs to their throats had them releasing the chains to try and claw air back into them, allowing Sebastian grab Miss Vivian. She fought against him blindly, but stilled with a gasp when he ripped the shackles off of her and lifted her into his arms. He leapt in the air then with his precious cargo back to the safety of the others. While Sebastian would have relished to slit the masked men open, his priority was the Huntress.

"Dear, oh dear." He smirked down at her, "We leave you for only a moment and you land yourself into trouble yet again. How do you manage it?"

 _Honestly, such a troublesome thing. And she's not yet even my mate._

Miss Vivian did not respond, remaining still and looking up at the demon in absolute shock. Sebastian was probably the last being on earth she imagined would be her rescuer, and he half expected her to start thrashing again and curse at him. Instead, Miss Vivian suddenly flung her arms about his neck, turning Sebastian as rigid as stone. She shuddered against his chest and buried her face into him, seeking comfort there. She seemed to be trying to hold back more tears, and her body heaved with the effort. While Sebastian was glad for her compliance, he was not certain how to take this display of weakness from her, or the delighted purr his instincts sent through his body.

Luckily, his attentions was drawn towards Mrs. Turner as she started to scream at him.

"What are you doing? She is a deranged patient! She must come with us!"

"I'm afraid I cannot let you take her away." Smirked the young Earl as he tiled his head challengingly up at the woman, "You see, deranged or not, she is my secretary."

This sent a wave of murmurs through the others, and Sebastian could not help but turn towards his master in bewilderment. Last he had heard, Miss Vivian had declined each of his offers to work for him, so why was the Earl pretending otherwise? This seemed news to Miss Vivian as well, as she stilled herself to peek at the small boy in surprise.

"And as such, she is under my care and protection." Continued the young Earl before turning to give Miss Vivian a particular look, "Isn't that right, Miss Vivian? Unless…you do want to go with Mrs. Turner?"

The demon arched a brow at his master, hoping he had misheard him. Could it be the Earl was forcing Miss Vivian's hand to accept his offer or else be taken by the Order she loathed so much? Even for the Queen's Guard Dog, this seemed a little underhanded. But, then again, he was giving the Huntress a way out. A chance for protection. It was up to Miss Vivian to accept his offer, or refuse and have to stand on her own. Sebastian looked down at the Huntress and eagerly wondered how she might proceed. One thing was certain to him though, she was not leaving his side anytime soon.

Sebastian watched the masked men recover themselves, standing at the ready behind Mrs. Turner, ready to lunge at her word.

 _Let them try._

"Never." She managed to whisper. The Earl Phantomhive turned from her to smirk at the shocked Mrs. Turner.

"There, you see. Your assistance here is not required."

"Lord Phantomhive." Mrs. Turner beseeched, "It would be in your best interest to surrender Lady Cartwright to us. She is a danger to herself and others."

"A danger eh? Then she will fit right in at Phantomhive Manor." Chuckled the boy before his tone turned mocking, "I must ask you to leave now. Go on, fly home little doves."

Mrs. Turner's expression turned shocked before she scowled. She seemed ready to snap her fingers and order her men to take Miss Vivian back by force, when she stopped to reconsider. Sensing their master to be in danger, the other Phantomhive staff members had come closer behind him. Their eyes were steely, and even the innocent Finnian looked ready for blood. Pluto himself seemed to be making himself useful, growling at the strangers he was ready to lunge at if not for Angela holding him back. The air became tense as all readied themselves for a fight, but with one sigh, Mrs. Turner defused the situation.

"Very well. The head of the London Sanitarium will be informed. Perhaps from him you will see reason, little dog." She seethed, the last two words spoken as a curse. As the Earl knew what she was a part of, it seemed Mrs. Turner was well aware who he was too. She was making a wise decision then as she turned to retreat towards the carriage. The black clad men, confused as they were, followed after her.

"Lady Cartwright…we shall have you back safely soon." Said Mrs. Turner before entering the carriage, "Rest assured."

Miss Vivian shivered, and Sebastian found his arms drawing her closer to him before he stopped himself.

The unmasked man whipped the horses into action, and like that the carriage and the members of the Order of the Hunt left. The group watched them in silence as they departed the village, disappearing down the road that led back to London. It was Baldroy who spoke first, letting out a whistle.

"Wow. That was exciting. And here I thought hunting a demon hound was going to be the highlight of today."

Angela, letting go of Pluto, walked up towards Sebastian.

"Miss Clark, are you alright?" Her tone spoke of concern for Miss Vivian, but Sebastian could see something that closely resembled frustration in her eyes. Miss Vivian nodded wearily.

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Oh, a young troubled lady having escaped an asylum only to be rescued by a handsome butler!" Exclaimed Mey-Rin excitedly, "It's positively gothic, yes it is!"

Miss Vivian scowled at this summation.

"It's nothing like that! And would you put be down?!" She turned to bark up at Sebastian. He found himself smirking. It seemed she had recovered herself, though she was still shaking and only now noticed her arms were about his neck. She drew them away as if burned.

"And risk having the injury at your side become worse? I think not." Sebastian tutted. Miss Vivian's body stiffened in his arms in indignation. She began to thrash then, clawing at his face weakly.

 _"Put me down, damn it!"_

"Oh, very well." He acquiesced. Dropping her rather unceremoniously, Miss Vivian barely managed to land on her feet before stumbling to fall against Angela. The maid luckily caught her in time before they both collapsed. Miss Vivian glared back at Sebastian, seeming to have a string of swears at the ready to throw at him, but thought better of it. Instead, she clumsily turned towards the Earl. Her expression became flustered then.

"Lord Earl…about what you said…I don't think–" She attempted to speak, but the Earl cut her off with a sly smile.

"Let us put that aside until tomorrow. For tonight, we could all use a good meal and some rest."

Miss Vivian looked at him a moment, trying to understand the expression he wore, before finally nodding. Sebastian could not help but match her curiosity, but also resigned himself to being without answers for a time as he failed to catch his master's eye as the boy turned towards the maids.

"Angela, would you be kind to help care for Miss Vivian? Mey-Rin will assist you."

"Of course." Smiled Angela as Mey-Rin ran over to assist.

"Come, Miss Clark." The red-haired maid cooed, "A nice bath and some fresh clothes will have you feeling right as rain in no time, yes it will."

Miss Vivian, too weak to resist, allowed herself to be led off back towards the castle. She stopped beside the Earl however, surprising the young boy by reaching out for his hand.

"Thank you." She muttered briefly before releasing him. The Earl was unable to respond before Angela and Mey-Rin urged her on. He turned and watched them retreat, Baldory and Finnian running after them after grabbing Miss Vivian's valise and cane. Pluto looked between from Sebastian to Angela, yipping after the latter after a moment's hesitation.

"My lord," Sebastian said as approached the Earl after a moment, "you do realize that you have made yourself an enemy of the Order, yes?"

The boy chuckled at this, turning up to look at his demon as if he had just told a joke.

"As if that makes a difference. Without Miss Vivian it seems they are nothing more than a name."

"Yes." The demon arched a brow, "Which is why they will do all in their power to get her back. I hope you do not plan on keeping her."

The young Earl shrugged, and began to walk away from Sebastian.

"I suppose it's a good thing we got ourselves a guard dog." Was his noncommittal answer. Sebastian scowled after the boy, but then shook his head wearily.

 _As if I could expect anything else from this master._

"You do have a penchant for dangerous games, young master." He glowered as he followed after the Earl. For now Sebastian would do the same as his master and Miss Vivian, and push aside the thoughts of the implications of this event until tomorrow. In a better light, a more favorable solution might be had that would favor the demon. One that did not have Miss Vivian joining the Phantomhive staff as well as that damned demon hound.

Although, given his luck, Sebastian highly doubted it...

"I suppose tomorrow we'll see where this turn has taken us." Continued the Earl absently, "As for right now, I'm hungry. I want something sweet with strawberries."

"Sir, you will spoil your dinner." Frowned Sebastian. He was given a dismissive wave.

"I don't care. Make it."

The demon held back a sigh. Honestly, his master was truly a tiresome little brat. But the Earl stopped then, and turned to look back at the demon with a dark look.

"But first…I have another order."

* * *

"Spoiled child. Now look what's she's done!" Exclaimed Mrs. Turner angrily. She scowled at the country side that passed the carriage window. They had come all this way, out here to the middle of a godforsaken land, only to be turned back unsuccessful.

"The Order is not going to like this." One of the masked men muttered.

"Don't you think I know that?!" She barked, "But it's going to take more than us four if we are to retrieve her from the Queen's Guard Dog safely."

"Do you think he knows she is a Huntress?" The other masked man asked. Mrs. Turner huffed and leaned herself back.

"Undoubtedly. The Queen's Guard Dog had been rumored to have been investigating the Butcher cases. I don't wonder if he found out more than he should have..." She pondered before shaking her head, "It doesn't matter. Once the Order knows that Lady Cartwright is prisoner of that boy, they will get her back and deal with him."

"So then, the Order does not know of Lady Cartwright's whereabouts at this time?" A voice asked from beside the carriage door.

Mrs. Turner and the two masked men turned towards it, shocked to see a man suddenly stepping inside.

"What?!" Exclaimed Mrs. Turner. The horses were running too fast for any man to catch up with them, let alone climb inside. Mrs. Turner was about to order the men to shoot the stranger, when she recognized him as the Earl Phantomhive's butler.

"You!? What are you doing here?!" She screeched in accusation. The butler did not answer her as he saw one of the masked men try to draw out his gun. Quick, so quick that it they only heard the crack of bone, the butler twisted the man's arm. He had forced it to a painful angle, snapping it in several places as if it was a twig.

"I shall ask one more time." He continued to smile, ignoring the pig-like screams of his victim, "Outside of you four, does the Order of the Hunt currently know where Lady Cartwright is?"

Mrs. Turner, petrified, found herself answering him before she knew it.

"T-they know she's here in Houndsworth…b-b-but they don't know that she is with you and your master."

The demon's smile took on a vicious quality to it, masking his whole face in dark pleasure.

"Good." He uttered with a wicked growl, "And with you four dead they will not find out for quite some time I imagine."

Mrs. Turner turned white.

"D-dead?"

The butler leaned towards her then, and she finally noticed the red hue of his eyes. Eyes like that of a devil hungry for blood.

"I shall make it quick, as I have dinner to prepare, but I'm afraid it will not be painless." The carriage became shrouded in living darkness then, and the only thing Mrs. Turner could see was the demon's eyes as they changed into slits, "You see, you harmed something that belongs to me..."

* * *

Oh, boy. That was _fun_ , wasn't it?

I hope Sebastian is not seeming too possessive of Vivi already, but I wanted to up the stakes in this chapter for the two of them just to watch them squirm. They're both so awkward with one another and I love it. But you've all seemed pleased with how I've written Sebastian so far, I just hope I keep up to your standards.

At any rate, please join Sebastian and Vivian in the next chapter as Vivian has to come to a decision: join the Phantomhive staff or strike out on her own. The choice seems clear, but when the Earl tosses in an added bonus, will Vivian be able to resist? And what happens when Sebastian sneaks up on her at the hot spring bath? Nothing good, I assure you.


	9. Bathing at the Hot Spring

**Chapter 9; Bathing at the Hot Spring:**

The afternoon was waning, but the people of Houndsworth took little notice. Each was hard at work on the new bathhouse and its amenities, from curio shops to rooms to rent for the customers they anticipated to come to relax here. It was as if a cleansing breeze had swept through the dreary town, giving it energy and life it had not seen in well over a century. But the hustle and construction were little more than a quiet din in Ciel's ears as he settled himself into the steaming water.

"Excellent. This is just perfect." He said to himself, feeling his muscles relax one by one. It had been three days since the excitement of the discovery of the hot spring, and Ciel was more than glad to be the first to test it. While the waters of the lake were known for their balm, this bathhouse would certainly be an attraction to nobles. Perhaps the Queen herself might even dignify this shabby village with her presence, but only if the resort met his own expectations. That was why he was still here after all.

The villagers were keen to build, but they needed direction. Ciel had no choice but to stay a few more days after solving the case, but he found the time was put to good use. The resort was coming along nicely in such a short time, and it gave time for everyone to recover from all the excitement in dealing with the demon hound. Namely, a certain young woman who day by day was becoming more and more interesting to the Earl…

Sebastian came into the Earl's periphery then, kneeling down beside the water with a tray in hand.

"Allow me, sir. Traditional hot springs service."

Ciel watched in fascination as the demon set the tray upon the water. The ripple barely disturbed the water, and with a gentle push, Sebastian sent the tray floating towards his master.

"You see my lord, this is how the Japanese enjoy hot springs." The butler explained. Reaching for the porcelain cup and saucer, Ciel sipped at the delicately aromatic tea. It sent a warmth down his throat, matching the heat that surrounded him. He had to admit, he was almost perfectly at ease.

Almost.

"It is a nice addition." He commented to the demon blandly. Looking at the high reaching scaffolding and the edge of the ancient ruins around the bathhouse, the Earl took in the noise of the villagers happily working. He might not have believed this kind of change possible if he had not witnessed it himself. Even the dogs seemed more relaxed, practically altering overnight from rough mongrels to friendly pups that wagged their tails at everyone.

"This gloomy village has experienced quite a transformation. I imagine it will be enough to dispel the old worries." The Earl continued. The resort would certainly bring in business, but even more important to the village's wellbeing, Lord Barrymore was no longer a threat. The defamed mayor had been buried with little ceremony, his death officially recorded as an attack by wild dogs in Ciel's report to the Queen. A reasonable explanation close to the truth.

"Something tells me that my worries are only just beginning," Sebastian muttered to himself, disturbing Ciel's ruminations. The young Earl looked across the bath, smirking in amusement as Pluto, in his human form, dog-paddled his way around. He was howling happily, causing Sebastian's spine to stiffen as if the sound pained him.

At the demon's torment, Ciel chuckled and changed the topic.

"What more have you found out about our Lady Cartwright?"

Since the demon hound incident three days ago, Miss Vivian had been kept immobile in her room under the care of Angela, Mey-Rin, and the village doctor. Ciel had visited her briefly only yesterday when the doctor deemed her well enough for company. Their conversation was brief, merely about the weather, but it was enough for him to see she was indeed in ill health. One might think for a woman who was able to overcome death itself she would recover quicker. She was pale and waifish, helpless from whatever those Chains of the Holy did to her. Still, it did not waver Ciel's curiosity about the woman, and since this morning he had tasked Sebastian to find out more about this so-called Lady Cartwright.

"She is from an old family, one that is able to trace their line back to the Crusades even." The demon began as he took out a small book from his inner coat pocket. Ciel recognized it as the copy of the latest Social Directory that Lord Barrymore kept in his office, as any noble would, "They had amounted a formidable wealth in overseas trading, but for the past few decades they amassed so much fortune that they simply live off of their investments and stocks."

"Probably because the real family business is not in trading anymore," Ciel commented dryly. Sebastian nodded.

"Quite right, young master. If you would look at their family crest…" Here he lowered a page torn from a book, another product of his research. Underneath the delicate calligraphy inscribing the Cartwright name was a familiar image; a dove.

"Then we can assume that not only is Miss Vivian the Order's Huntress, but their heiress as well?" The Earl asked as he took another sip of his tea. The demon cleared his throat and began a rhetoric of information.

"Yes. It is very likely her father is the head of the Order. According to gossip, Lord Cartwright's wife had died in childbirth to their sole child, Lady Vivian Arielle Cartwright. More tragedy struck as the daughter later suffered some nervous breakdown at sixteen, and has been excused from society and company. Truthfully, she probably started her career as a Huntress then. But only after six months she completely disappeared, and not even the family's closest friends could say where she had gone. Rumors spread that she had been locked away in an asylum for the past year and a half for hysteria."

Ciel listened intently, absorbing the details. They fitted in perfectly with what he already knew of Miss Vivian, as well as explained some of her mysteries. Ciel himself recalled meeting members of the Cartwright family when his parents were still alive at some function or other, and yet he did not remember Miss Vivian. This explained why. She was a black sheep, known as a shame to her family when the reality was she was their golden calf.

"This, of course, was when she was causing trouble as the Butcher. All in all, an interesting history." Ciel surmised for the demon, deciding he had enough of the waters. He rose from the submerged bench and Sebastian moved to help him out of the bath before producing a towel and drying him. Pluto noticed the commotion and instantly changed course to paddle towards the demon with an excited yip.

"Yes. And now she works for you, master." Sebastian smirked, but it was forced. Ciel returned it with his own.

"Perhaps. We have yet to discuss things."

"Then I shall prepare a special dinner for you both that you might have the opportunity to converse? Seeing as the doctor is now satisfied with her recovery."

Pluto exited the bath and shook himself nearby to them then, and droplets splattered onto the demons' polished shoes. This earned the demon hound a withering look from Sebastian, but Pluto only tilted his head curiously in return.

"You almost sound eager to welcome her into the Phantomhive staff." Watching the demon carefully, Ciel took in the slight change in his expression.

From exasperation to…Ciel could not be certain. He knew most undoubtedly that Lady Cartwright's presence and mention was irksome to the demon, but as he had voiced before, he suspected something more. While dogs and Pluto peeved the demon, Lady Cartwright seemed to reach a deeper, more vexing level. It was hatred, and with that emotion came great passion, more than he suspected the demon capable of. More often than not, the demon put on a façade of human emotion, a show for others than anything genuine. But in regards to Lady Cartwright, Ciel suspected there to be true loathing and, perhaps on the side of Sebastian… _covetousness?_

It did not seem right, but Ciel knew no better word. After all, he seemed more than eager to 'deal' with Mrs. Turner and her associates when Ciel ordered him to. Ciel did not request their deaths per say, but he was hardly surprised when the demon came back with a splatter of blood on his vest. Normally the demon would have mourned the stain, but he almost contentedly traded it for another in his valise, as if some bloodlust had been satisfied in him. While Ciel had come to know the demon as a violent creature, there had been an air of satisfaction about him after Mrs. Turner's unfortunate disappearance.

Before Ciel could determine if that was the case, Sebastian interrupted his thoughts.

"Eager is not the word I would use." The demon continued to smirk, but now to Ciel, it looked more like a grimace. Ciel found it fitting, and decided to continue to delight in the demon's torment even if he did not know the exact source.

"I must admit, I cannot guess what action she will decide on. Miss Vivian is a difficult person to predict."

The demon arched a brow at Ciel.

"Then what action do you hope she will take? If you do not mind my curiosity, young master."

The young Earl remained quiet for a time. There were suspicions he had, coincidences he suspected for some time but did not voice. They did not matter when Miss Vivian was dead, and when her resurrection was discovered he was too busy with the demon hound to bother with it. But now…

"The Order of the Hunt deal with demons." He finally spoke. Sebastian nodded.

"Yes."

"The cult that had bought me, branded me, humiliated me…they had been trying to summon a demon."

Here, Sebastian truly smirked. It seemed to Ciel the demon had already considered this possibility and had been waiting for him to finally realize it. Sebastian never was one to make things easy for him. But then, that was all part of the game, wasn't it?

"I see. And you think the Order might know something of them, and consequently might know the ones responsible for your parents' murder."

Ciel nodded firmly.

"It is just too much of a coincidence for me to ignore."

Finally turning from the demon, Ciel started back towards the changing room.

"Enough of this. Let us return to the castle. You shall prepare dinner for myself and Lady Cartwright. From what I hear from Angela, she likes sweets. Make something special for dessert. A lemon tart would do."

Sebastian followed after his master faithfully, disguising whatever ire he felt by this command skillfully.

"Of course."

* * *

Hours passed, and dinner was ready to be served. By the young master's command, it was to be earlier than how he usually took it for the benefit of Lady Cartwright. She was to visit the new hot spring bath after for her health, by the command of the village doctor. This hurried Sebastian's efforts, but dinner and the table were flawless as usual.

Sebastian stood by his lord's chair at the head of the table, waiting for Lady Cartwright to join. They both eagerly watched the door, waiting for her to appear like some visitation. Sebastian could not say he did so enthusiastically. Indeed, he almost dreaded seeing her.

 _No doubt the feeling is mutual…_

Lady Cartwright had been locked away after her exchange with Mrs. Turner of the Order, and Sebastian did not have the privilege – or desire – to attend to her afterward. It was a bit of a pleasant reprieve for the demon from the woman. The influence of his instincts over the rescue of Lady Cartwright to the consequent torture of the members of the Order had been uncomfortable for Sebastian to say the least. The actions were almost… _protective_ of the woman; a woman he had decided was neither worthy of being his mate or even being acknowledged as one. As a demon, it was not natural to feel such betrayal by one's instincts, but Sebastian nonetheless denounced them, something more easily done as the days passed and the effect of Lady Cartwright's presence on him lessened. The demon would admit, it was a relief, but one that ended too quickly as he heard the tell-tale shuffle of the Huntress approaching.

"Almost there, Lady Cartwright. Careful now." Came the voice of Angela from the other side of the dining room door.

Sebastian and his master straightened themselves as the door opened and Angela guided in Lady Cartwright.

The demon took in Lady Cartwright's appearance with a critical eye. She was poorer for her experience with Mrs. Turner and the demon hound. Her eyes were circled with dark lines and her complexion shallow. The wound on her side seemed to be healing as was her ankle, giving her better posture with the help of his master's old cane. But it was clear she was weak. Sebastian could feel it as his demonic presence lightly tested the edge of her own for the first time since their parting three days ago. Weak in body and power; reduced to a pale and tired creature that barely resembled the feisty Huntress he had come to know…a pathetic sight really.

The young master bowed in greeting to Lady Cartwright, who returned it with a surprisingly graceful curtsey. Angela then led her to the chair nearest the young master, gently seating her with the help of Sebastian.

In all honesty, it was not that difficult to Sebastian to alter his thoughts of her from Miss Vivian – a simple secretary with an interesting hobby – to Lady Cartwright – a noblewoman born into a world of secrets and refinery. She had a haughtiness that only years of so-called 'fine breeding' could instill in a member of the upper class. Her family denouncing her as a lunatic seemed rather odd though, especially if they had any hopes of Lady Cartwright marrying well to continue the family line as well as produce the next Hunter for the Order.

 _But then, I suppose she does rather fit the bill. Hysteria and piety are not really all that different in my opinion. Both a lamentable disease…_

"Thank you, Angela." Lady Cartwright said, blatantly ignoring Sebastian.

The demon smirked, sensing how irksome it was for the Huntress to once more be treated like a lady. She had grown too accustomed to her life as a simple secretary, independent of such overtures. Sebastian felt the need to bait her, and gallantly draped a napkin over her lap before pushing in her chair. The look Lady Cartwright gave him was practically scathing, and Sebastian had to keep himself from chuckling.

 _Ah, I have become so petty. How unseemly of a butler, but all too fitting for a demon. I must amend myself._

"If you please, Angela, I will serve the Lord and Lady this evening," Sebastian announced to the Barrymore maid. Immediately she glanced between him and Lady Cartwright.

"But–"

"My master has asked me to arrange a dinner for you and the other servants. To thank you for your hard work. Please, go and enjoy, the others are waiting for you." The demon cut her off. Angela glanced again at Lady Cartwright, but the woman did not meet her eyes. Lady Cartwright knew as well as the young lord that their talk had been delayed long enough over her health, and it was high time to come to a conclusion. And Sebastian could not deny, he was looking forward to it as well.

Angela, still looking unsure, finally bowed and smiled towards the young master.

"Thank you, Earl Phantomhive, for your generosity. I won't keep the others waiting."

With that, she left, closing the dining room door behind her with a loud 'click'.

Silence followed it as both Lady Cartwright and the Earl Phantomhive seemed to be in no mood for the customary small talk that came with the start of dinner. Sebastian decided action was needed and went over to the serving table.

"For the soup course, we have cream of celery." He announced as he balanced the soup terrine in one hand and served with the other.

He started with Lady Cartwright, as she was their guest, before coming to the side of his lord. The both of them observed Lady Cartwright silently, each wrapped up in their own curiosity about her. She waited until the young master began to eat before choosing the correct spoon without hesitation, and taking from the side of the bowl, demurely sipped without a sound.

 _So, she does have manners. How shocking._ The demon smirked to himself.

They were all mute for a time, and Sebastian half suspected that he would serve the next course without a word being spoken when Lady Cartwright suddenly set aside her spoon.

"I assume you dismissed Angela for a reason, or shall we sit here in silence the entire time?" She asked. Her tone was level, but her carefully raised brow spoke volumes of her impatience. The young Earl set aside his dish and nodded.

"Of course. Seeing as how you are somewhat recovered, I thought it best to discuss our current situation."

"I agree." Lady Cartwright voiced. The young master smirked and wasted not a second more.

"As far as I can see, the facts are these: the Order wants you back, but you, to quote, 'would rather die' than be under their control again."

"Yes."

"But unfortunately, due to your condition, you cannot protect yourself from them. In particular against those chains, which they will likely bring more of when they come to reclaim you, which undoubtedly will be soon. Correct?"

Sebastian glanced down at his master. While the boy had left the interpretation of the 'taking care of' Mrs. Turner and her lackeys to the demon, Sebastian had wondered if the young master would tell Lady Cartwright of their disposal. As it stood, Lady Cartwright was in no danger, not currently at least. In fact, thanks to Sebastian ridding all the evidence of Mrs. Turner, the Order would not know of her whereabouts for several weeks, months possibly if she took precautions. But she had no way of knowing that. If anything Lady Cartwright might very well believe the Order would be upon her at any moment, ready with more men and chains to drag her away.

The strain the poor lady must be under, the demon smirked to imagine. How shrewd of the young master to make her wallow in it. But it would do no good. She would not accept.

This Sebastian believed wholeheartedly – well, a demon's equivalent at any rate. Lady Cartwright might be desperate, but she was a Huntress after all. To sink to working for a human contracted with a demon would be against every fiber of her being, as surely as it was for her to be in the same room with Sebastian – of which she was barely managing as it was. No, she would not accept. She was too pious, something which Sebastian was oddly grateful for. Especially if it meant their withdrawal from one another until such time as he saw fit to act. Which would not be for decades – _if ever_ – if the demon could help it.

 _And yet, initially, I had believed her too pious to consume the hearts of so many demons…perhaps the brat is right. She may yet prove to be a difficult human to predict…_

Sebastian ignored the small doubt to watch Lady Cartwright's stoic expression slip a little.

"What do you know of the Chains of the Holy?" She asked curiously. The young master simply shrugged nonchalantly.

"Sebastian explained to me. They are the only things that can contain the powers of a Hunter, right?"

"Yes," Sebastian answered before Lady Cartwright could, taking the opportunity to explain further to his master, "They were forged to control a Hunter should they go against the Order…and consequently, drain their powers when the Order felt the need to punish the demon slayer."

Lady Cartwright shivered then, but whether from a chill or memories, Sebastian did not care to determine. The young Earl could not help his surprise though as he turned towards Lady Cartwright, her paleness and weakness taking on new meaning to him.

"Your powers are gone?"

"Temporarily, I assure you." She bristled, sending an unforgivably hateful glare towards the demon.

"I see." Ciel nodded as he pressed the conversation forward, "Then with your health as it currently is, your powers fatigued, as well as my possessing your sword…I'd say you're in quite a fix."

At his master's summation, Sebastian observed unguarded truth in Lady Cartwright's eyes. Behind the well-mannered mask, there was unease, the very same that rolled off of her and ruined her natural scent of roses. She was worried and had good reason to be. As a Huntress and a headstrong woman, she was undoubtedly hated to being dependent on others or luck to get by. She had survived the streets of London for nearly two years, hunted twenty demons to their deaths…and now she could barely climb a set of stairs without being short of breath. And with her imaging her enemies soon to be closing in on her, it would be enough to make anyone desperate.

 _Would it be though?_ The demon thought passively; _She had told the Earl previously she would rather eat glass than accept his offer. Perhaps I should have some at the ready._

"Which is where my proposal comes in." The Earl continued. Lady Cartwright, to mask her insecurity, picked up her spoon and was sampling the soup again.

"It does?"

"Yes. I propose that you work for me, and in return, I shall protect you from the Order until you have recovered enough."

Lady Cartwright sipped the soup leisurely, drawing out a moment of silence. Her eyes, dulled as they were with her ill health, flashed defiantly as she met the Earl's.

"And how long might this generosity last?" Her tone was spiteful as Sebastian expected, but not nearly as poisonous as he hoped.

"Let us say…one year of loyal service." The Earl bargained. Lady Cartwright narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"And by loyal service, I assume you mean–"

"You obey my orders faithfully and answer my questions truthfully." The young master explained further. Lady Cartwright nodded before glancing towards Sebastian. For the first time that evening, she smirked.

"Your demon does not seem too keen on this proposal of yours."

It hardly took deductive skills to know _that_ was obvious. The hard expression Sebastian wore as well as the irritated swirl of his demonic presence made his ire unmistakable to the Huntress. She delighted in his torment as much as he had hers, but now that the tables were turned the demon wondered. He had thought that their dislike of the Earl's offer to be one of the few – if only – thing they could agree on. Sebastian did not even consider the possibility that Lady Cartwright wouldn't reject it…but if she should accept there would be nothing he could do. Because of the contract, his loyalties belonged to his master and not his instincts. However, he felt, if it went against his master's orders, he would have to live with it.

 _That may be manageable in itself, but regardless, there would simply be no living with **her**._

"He shall bring you no harm so long as you do not endanger me or our contract. That is, if you accept, of course. Right, Sebastian?" The Earl turned to grin sadistically at the demon, who responded with a stiff bow.

"If you order it, it shall be done."

Lady Cartwright took a moment to look at them, eyes flickering between them. She was trying to see some trick, some hidden card they had yet to play. Little did she know she had already been fooled, but Sebastian would be more than glad to spoil all if it meant dispelling the little doubt he had now about Lady Cartwright's overly virtuous nature.

"I must ask why you are so adamant about having me work for you. I fail to see how you benefit from any of this." She commented as she took one last sip of the soup, laying her cutlery down in the proper position to signal to Sebastian that she was done. He acted accordingly and took her dish away.

"You do realize that I am the Queen's Guard Dog." The Earl explained as he waved Sebastian over to take his own serving away though it was hardly touched, "And as such, I tend to come across…interesting cases. The demon hound being one such example. Your knowledge and experience will come in handy I imagine."

"Help with your cases? And nothing else?" She rose a cautious brow at him. She was distrustful, as well she should be. Her caution did little, as the young Earl revealed nothing as he smiled amusedly at her.

"Clerical work of course. You will be my secretary after all."

Lady Cartwright considered the Earl, taking a moment to study him. Her silence prompted the young master to continue.

"It shall only be a year, and at the end of which, you will receive payment for your services."

Her brow furrowed.

"Payment?"

"Of course. I will be employing you. And your annual salary shall be, let us say…five hundred pounds?"

The young lady stiffened then, her mouth falling open to gap like some caught fish as all breeding was tossed out the window.

"F-five hundred?! I…you…five hundred?!"

Her shock was understandable. Her annual salary with Mr. Morgan at Morgan's & Son's was only ninety pounds a year. The Earl was being overly generous, knowing the amount would be more than enough to help her avoid the Order and leave England.

"And, if you met my standards – exacting as they are – I may be generous enough to allow you to take possession of your demon slaying sword at the end of the year."

Sebastian had to suppress a growl. Of course, his master would play the game that dangerously.

"Master, are you sure that is wise?" The demon spoke in a low, warning tone. This was an affront to him enough, the master flaunting this Huntress before him just to torment him. Did the Earl have some wish to end their contract? To play with fire? That was the only possible reason the demon could think of him bending over so to obtain her services.

The young master dismissed Sebastian's question by resting his head against his hand and looking at the still shocked Lady Cartwright with a vested interest.

"So…do we have an accord?"

Contrary to what the demon expected, Lady Cartwright did not smirk at his master and profess she would rather dance in the flames of hell. Instead, she lowered her gaze to the gloves on her hands, the ones she wore to hide the scratches she received while trying to claw her way out of her grave. Sebastian hated to admit that her expression looked…pensive. As if she had found herself at an unexpected crossroad, and struggled to choose which path to take. This indecisiveness was worrying in itself, but more so was her sigh of resignation.

When she still hesitated to answer one way or another, the young master chuckled.

"Don't tell me your pride is standing in your way?"

Oddly enough, Lady Cartwright let out a laugh of her own. The sound was mirthless and defeated.

"I've come this far because I've consumed the hearts of demons. I'm not going to pretend that I am any better than you." She paused to sigh again before meeting the Earl's eyes with determination, "I've come this far on my own, done more than anyone in my position has ever achieved. I'm not going to throw that all away on something silly like pride or honor."

From beside his master, Sebastian clenched his hands into fists, not liking where this was going.

Lady Cartwright straightened herself in her chair, her expression and tone conveying a deadly conviction.

"I will work for you, Earl Phantomhive. You keep to your word, and you shall have my loyalty and service for one year from this day."

The young master's smirk changed itself into a satisfied and sadistic grin, one he turned towards Sebastian for his benefit. No doubt the Earl felt as if he had won something, as most certainly Sebastian was in every way the loser.

 _Foolish brat._ The demon growled to himself, realizing now he had overestimated Lady Cartwright. _It appears that I am not half so skilled at predicting humans as I previously believed. Truly, they are fascinating, difficult creatures. Especially this one._

Lady Cartwright saw an easier path, pure and simple. She saw a thread and took it. Not so the honorable creature as he foolishly assumed. Not the paragon of impossible perfection and piety she assumed the role of, but a flawed woman who has committed many of her own sins for power. The Earl Phantomhive's protection and money would be but a means for her in the end, one worth more than her honor apparently. So, in conclusion, she was as most humans were: weak and willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wanted.

Let this be another lesson in humanity then. One Sebastian was going to pay dearly to have learned too late. Even if he found himself admiring the shrewd desperation of Lady Cartwright that matched his own master…momentarily, of course.

"Excellent." Smiled the Earl before straightening himself back into his chair.

"Sebastian, serve the next course."

The butler nodded and did as he was bid, allowing his demonic presence to show what he could not. It swirled and twisted around the Huntress, suppressing her with all the ire and displeasure he felt in her decision, no doubt making her sick. He smiled at her as he served her first, noting how careful she was to not meet his eye.

"For the fish course, we have a local trout from the lake, poached and served with asparagus and a crème fraiche and sprinkled with dill. Please, _enjoy_ Lady Cartwright."

* * *

Carefully now Mey-Rin." Instructed Angela as the two maids held Vivian between them. The red-haired maid nodded, and Vivian could feel her grip on her arm become a little tighter. The two maids guided Vivian to the edge of the spring bath and, after watching her step onto the submerged bench beneath the surface of the water, lowered her down until she was fully seated. As the hot water enveloped her body until she was submerged to her neck, Vivian felt herself melt.

 _Oh, dear sweet God..._

The maids gently let go of her then, Angela placing a folded towel behind Vivian so the bath edge was cushioned as she leaned against it. Vivian did not need such careful handling but had learned there was simply no assuaging Angela. The maid was overbearingly kind, smiling and fussing over Vivian these past few days. It made Vivian uncomfortable, to say the least, but with Angela and Mey-Rin tending to her every need, it did give Vivian a lot of time to reflect while she healed. And she had a lot to reflect.

Vivian's body was exhausted, and with the water of the hot spring soaking warmth into her it was difficult not to close her eyes and let it wash away all thoughts and cares. And yet Vivian's mind refused to rest. Apprehension twisted her guts, churning the five-course dinner she had just endured with the young Earl. The food had been impeccable, the best she had eaten in two years, and yet everything turned to ash in her mouth. It was as if the Divine was already punishing her for her weakness.

 _I had no choice…what else could I do?_

When her eyes began to sting as her emotions welled, Vivian forced herself to smile up at the maids.

"Mey-Rin, Angela, thank you for your service. But if I may have a few moments alone?"

The two maids glanced at one another but then curtseyed.

"Of course, Lady Cartwright." Answered Angela. Vivian suppressed a flinch at her own name.

"I've told you, Miss Vivian is fine," Vivian told her for the hundredth time. It was terrible enough that everyone knew she was a noblewoman, but to have to keep using the name she had tried to leave behind for the past two years was more than Vivian could bear at times.

Angela only smiled and then left with Mey-Rin following close behind her. They headed outside, no doubt going to wait by the cart Tanaka had driven them all down in and gossip as maids often did. Vivian wondered if they might talk about her, and the recent announcement the Earl gave to them after dinner about Vivian joining their staff. Were they surprised? Shocked? Did they laugh at how pathetic she was? How weak-willed and desperate?

 _Oh, God. What have I done?_

A rush of guilt, anxiety, and self-disgust overtook the warmth of the hot spring, making Vivian shiver. She had just agreed to something she never thought she would ever as long as she lived.

But if she could relive the past few hours over, Vivian knew in her heart she would end up making the same decision. To work for the Earl Phantomhive as his secretary in exchange for protection, her sword, and money. It was the wisest decision she could make considering her current situation. And yet Vivian felt repulsed and regretful like she had just sold her body on the street for some stranger's pleasure.

 _No. No. Stop thinking like that. You did what you had to._ Vivian chided herself.

It was true. Doing what was best for her own survival was all she was guilty of.

The past three days had given her plenty of time to think, and she had considered every possibility. Even with her body already healing thanks to the demons hearts she consumed, she was weak. If she only had to deal with her wounds from fighting the demon hound, she would have guessed her recovery to only take a few more weeks. Of course, there still was the matter of the after effects of her death to deal with, but in all consideration, it could be worse...which it was.

Thanks to Mrs. Turner, Vivian was now a shadow of her former self. Her body trembled at the slightest of exertion, and it was exhausting enough to stand and get dressed. Even more concerning, her powers were gone. She almost felt _human_ again. The Divine power she had been granted was little more than a hum in her now, so weak she knew herself to be completely defenseless. It would take time for her powers as well as herself to be restored to their former strength, but time was not an ally.

Mrs. Turner would be back, and next time she would have more than three men and the Chains of the Holy with her. Any moment now Vivian half expected masked men to leap out from beneath the water and apprehend her. A preposterous fear, but a persistent one nonetheless, one that would assuredly come true within the week. Most likely it wouldn't even be Mrs. Turner returning, but instead Vivian's father. And he would not fail to bring her back into the hands of the Order. And then he would punish her for her resistance. Vivian feared what would happen to her if the Order caught hold of her for running away, but now that she had resisted and even dared strike a few members in her attempt to defend herself...she shuddered to think.

 _Father will probably lock me down in the vault again...just like he had two years ago..._

Images of those days flashed in Vivian's mind - the pain, the forsakenness, the heavy chains draining her of all resistance...no. She would never return to those days. Her first attempt to flee the Order might have been in vain, as Mrs. Turner so grievously showed her, but she was not going to let them have her back in their clutches so easily. She was going to recover, grow stronger, leave England, and never think of them again. And thanks to the Earl, that would all be possible.

Even though she overcame it, Vivian's pride was still very much stinging from her decision to work for the young Earl. Until she had sat down to dinner with him, she still did not know her own mind. It was one thing to know the wisest course of action to take, it was another to commit to it. But she did.

Working for the Earl for a year would not only give her time to heal but protection as well. With her loyalty to him, the Earl would no doubt keep up his end of the bargain, and keep the Order from taking her. Why he was willing to offer even that much for her service, she still did not know. While Vivian could see how she could be of use to the Queen's Guard Dog on his cases, was her knowledge really valuable enough to make an enemy out of the Order? Vivian was tempted to think the boy could not possibly know what he was getting into, but then, perhaps that's what he wanted.

Vivian knew there had to be something more to the Earl offering to help her. She had suspected that much when he first offered to hire her, but she was still as much at a loss as she was then. Him offering to return her sword as well as pay her five hundred pounds were unexpected bribes that worked all too well on Vivian, and when the time came to answer there was surprisingly very little holding her back from saying yes. All she said was true - she had worked too hard and too long to go back to the way things were. She had a Divine purpose, and she would fulfill it on her own terms. If that meant bending to the Earl's whim for a time, then she would do it...but not without some regret.

 _A whore. That's what I am. I've sold myself. My soul was already damned, but now I don't even have my pride..._

Vivian groaned and sank deeper into the water. It was too late for regrets, no matter how they wormed in her mind.

She had survived this long by playing it smart, and this was little different than when she had agreed to work for Mr. Morgan. But still! She was a Huntress! She should have been strong enough to resist the temptation the Earl offered her. But she wasn't. Not right now, with her body weak and powers gone. And she wouldn't be strong enough to live up to her own pride or righteousness for some time yet. So, there was nothing for her to do but live with her decision and benefit from the Earl's generosity.

Even if that meant living with the brat who would no doubt mock her every day and - _worse_ \- the demon.

 _Oh, sweet angel of mercy, I'm going to have to live in the same house with him now, aren't I?_

The Earl had promised that the demon would not harm her unless she tried to harm him or break their contract - neither things Vivian planned on doing any time soon. But she could not help but feel the demon would make her brief time working for the Earl a veritable hell on earth. His fury at her decision was plain to her. He had always appeared as opposed and loathe to it as she, and now it seemed she had disappointed him as well as herself. He practically enveloped her in his demonic presence after she said yes, making her feel sicker with herself than she already was. The Earl's habit of mocking her was a bad enough prospect to live with...but the demon's anger...

 _Well, damn him. He will obey his master's orders, and won't harm me. That said, he's not going to make it pleasant. Probably is already scheming something horrible to do to me. He is a demon after all, and if there's something they're good at, it's finding the devil in the details when it comes to orders and contracts. He'll find a creative way to torment me, that's for sure-_

"If you stay much longer in the water, you may run the risk of becoming light-headed." A voice spoke up behind her.

Vivian whipped her head around, her eyes landing on a pair of polished shoes standing not three feet away from her. She knew who they belonged to without looking up, and reacted predictably.

"Eep!" She shrieked as she tried to stand, but then remembering her nakedness bent herself back into the water. This resulted in her slipping on the tile lining of the hot spring bath, sinking herself in the hot water that made her face feel like it was being scalded. Re-submerging, Vivian sputtered and blindly reached for the towel Angela left behind, her first and only instinct to cover herself.

"You really are a clumsy thing, aren't you Lady Cartwright?" Commented the demon dryly after Vivian had hastily wrapped the towel about herself. Attempting to push the hair out of her eyes, Vivian tried to think of something to say, but her mortification and panic slowed her words.

 _Oh, dear Lord, why does this keep happening?!_

"D-demon! What–"

"I fear you and I have things to discuss, now that our circumstances are changed." The butler informed her as he peered down at her, his expression solemn.

"Get out of here you hobgoblin! You beast of Hell! You-!"

"It is this kind of talk which has prompted me to take liberties to approach you while I had the chance, Lady Cartwright." The demon interrupted, and Vivian felt her anger burst through her indignity.

"Stop calling me that! All of you!" She blurted out before she knew what she had said. The demon seemed taken aback by the command and arched a brow.

"Oh? That is your name, is it not?"

Vivian's anger, as boiling as it now was, had no biting answer to the demon's question. It was her name and title, yes, but she was as uncomfortable with them as she was now being accosted in such a manner by a man, let alone a demon. Shaking her head, she attempted to stand her ground and show some backbone.

"I prefer to be addressed as Miss Vivian." She growled, feeling breathless with rage. The demon briefly looked her over, as if he was tempted to ask her the reasoning behind the request, but decided he did not care to know.

"Very well." He said with a slight bow as if they were being introduced, "Then you will address me as Sebastian. No more of this 'beast of hell' business if you please."

Vivian scoffed at his request but stiffly nodded after a time. It seemed reasonable, as no doubt the demon – ahem, Sebastian – wanted to have his true identity kept a secret. But him showing up while she was bathing to tell her this was _not_ reasonable. She had been expecting the demon to respond in some negative fashion to her joining the Phantomhive staff, but she did not think he would go to such a length to retaliate. At least, not this soon or while she was naked.

"Anything else, or can we end this moment of my utter humiliation? I find you viewing me when I am exposed is becoming a disturbing pattern." She asked, fixing the wet folds of the towel to cover more of her.

Sebastian's lips pulled themselves down into a disgusted sneer.

"Don't insult me. I am not a pathetic human that will turn weak at the sight of your flesh."

"That may be. But in my experience, no matter what the species, men are men." Vivian accused. At her reply, the demon's countenance softened with curiosity.

"You mean, a demon–"

"A demon beside yourself tried to take advantage of me? Yes. And he met a very sorry end." Vivian growled, having had her fill his mockery and company. But Sebastian hardly seemed threatened, remaining silent to study her. Vivian felt her skin crawl under his scrutiny, and to avoid his eyes turned her back to him and sat once more on the submerged bench.

"Just make your say and leave me be." She told him, knowing full well there was nothing she could do to get him to leave except listen to whatever it was he had to say. She could call for Angela and Mey-Rin, but – and she hated to admit – Vivian was curious as to what he wanted from her.

The demon continued to ponder this for a time, but then let out an audible sigh of frustration.

"Very well. I shall start by saying I am quite surprised at you, Miss Vivian." He began, "I thought you would never abide to serve anyone but your precious Divine. Furthermore, I had hoped your overly developed sense of morality and zealot nature would keep you from accepting the Earl's proposition. I suppose I underestimated the pitifulness of your situation as well as your fear of the Order of the Hunt."

"I am not afraid of _them_ ," Vivian said reflexively, stinging from the truth of his speech. Even the demon thought better of her than how she acted. The self-disgust from before crept in and usurped her anger, making her feel suddenly very cold in the steaming water.

 _Well, this is the lowest point of my life. And I've died recently._

"Oh? Then you were clinging to me not out of fear when I rescued you, but sudden affection for my being? I must say, I am flattered." Chuckled the demon, finally showing more emotion than scorn. Vivian sharply turned on her seat, frowning up at him.

"D-do not be gauche. I am a lady, and I shall be treated as one."

 _Convincing. Next time try it without the stutter._

"A lady? Yes, by blood, but one might never suspect it by your mannerisms."

"And one might never suspect by the smile you wear that you are the blackest fiend of hell that ever walked this earth. Do not forget, it was you who brought me to this level." Vivian bit back in reply, "If you had let me be, I would never have been forced to stoop to accept the Earl's proposition."

The demon's brow arched up again in amusement, and Vivian felt the urge to pluck the damn thing off his face.

"Let you be? Do be more specific. Do you refer to when I saved you from bleeding out to death in the kitchen or being captured by Mrs. Turner?"

"I refer to when you tried to _rip_ out my heart," Vivian said with a huff. As if any of this really mattered.

She could blame the demon all she wanted, but the truth was that the decision was hers and hers alone. It was possible that she might manage to avoid the Order if she struck out on her own, but the chance of ending in their grip and locked away…she was afraid to take it. And that was the truth of it. She was afraid of the Order, and she would rather work with a demon and his master than return to them. This was her shame, and this she would have to live with for the rest of her life. There was no undoing this.

 _God, forgive me._

What little left of the anger Vivian managed to hold on to left her then, and she turned away from the demon to study the ripples in the bath. It didn't matter what he said to her, or how he mocked her. She was already at her lowest, and he couldn't possibly sink her more.

From behind her, she heard the demon sigh again, as if dealing with her was exhausting.

 _He seems annoyed with me. Good. The feeling is more than mutual._

"Let the past be in the past." Voiced Sebastian, his voice straining to remain even, "We work for the same master now, and as much as I suspect we both dislike the situation, it would seem we have to make our peace with it."

" _Peace?_ I hardly think a creature like you knows the meaning of that word." Vivian commented dryly and she tried to comb her hair back smoothly. She could almost feel the demon eyes piercing the back of her neck.

"We can continue in this vicious circle of Huntress and demon and end up causing quite a bit of trouble for one another for the next year. Getting under one another's feet, if you will." He told her, and Vivian knew it was a threat. Still, it was a surprise to her. She had half expected the demon had come here to tell her to watch her back, but instead, he was hoping to…what? Be civil? It would certainly help pass the year of service smoothly, as no doubt the demon would find creative ways to torment her that did not involve physical harm.

"And what do you propose? A truce?" Vivian asked, willing to humor him.

"I know, it is as unnatural for me as it is for you. But let us say a truce to not interfere with one another's duties, mine to my master and you to your Divine, will help this year pass painlessly. Relatively speaking, of course. I have my orders from by master to not harm you unless you first do harm to him or our contract. But there are other ways to… _inconvenience_ , should you prove difficult."

This time there was no hiding the threat in his voice. But what he was proposing was more than Vivian could hope for from a demon. He disliked her joining the Phantomhive staff as much as she did, but saw the potential for them to inconvenience each other as little as possible if they both agreed to it. Vivian had to admit, she underestimated how reasonable the demon could be when it suited him. And even if this little truce wouldn't spare her from all inconveniences, at least she might not have to worry about him putting a spider in her hair or something of the like.

 _No, even the demon is not that petty. Maybe._

Vivian turned on the seat once more, eyeing the demon up and down. His expression was unreadable, but Vivian noted that his fists were clenched at his sides. This was killing him as surely as it was killing her. As a demon and a Huntress, they were bred to fight one another, to delight in the demise of one another. That they should come to this was inconceivable as well as undesired. But Sebastian could do nothing because of his contract, and she could do nothing because of her fear and desperation. For now, at least, they were in the same boat.

"It burns my tongue to say this, but I agree with you, demon." Vivian sighed tiredly, the hot water sapping what little was left of her energy, "Very well. I shall refrain from calling you the black spawn of malice that you are, and you shall curb your instinct to torture me for one year. We shall fake some semblance of geniality. After which, everything shall return to its natural order."

"And we shall be free to dance to our hearts' content. Shall we seal the agreement?" He smiled politely then, reaching a hand out in offering. Vivian turned her nose up at him as she turned back around once more.

"Don't push your luck, demon." She growled before correcting herself, "I mean…Sebastian."

Vivian could practically hear the smirk the demon was wearing as he spoke.

"Until the morning then, my lady."

"I said don't –!" Vivian bit out, half-tempted to get his fine suit wet as she turned once more to face him. But he was gone. His demonic presence was lessening as well, a sure sign that he was leaving her be. For now.

With a groan, Vivian sank again into the water.

 _Oh, God…what have I done?_

* * *

It was morning, and the carriages of the Phantomhive household were packed and ready. It was still somewhat early, as the Earl hoped to make it back to his manor in time for supper. Vivian had no objections to this, though she wasn't really looking forward to the hours on the road. Her aches and pains had lessened only a little since yesterday, while her regret and self-repulsion remained the same. She supposed those feelings would not go away until her year of service was up, and even then, she might have to take up drinking just to dull them.

 _Now, now. I can plan to wallow in self-pity later. For now, I have a job to do and do it well I will. Even if I will be serving a brat who's too young to shave…_

On this, Vivian was resolute. She had packed her few belongings without hesitance and was the first to take her seat in one of the carriages. While she would have preferred to ride with the servants in their cart, the Earl could not ignore her status as a noblewoman. So he had her seated in his own carriage, just opposite him. Vivian supposed it would make for a smoother journey…but it also meant being near the demons.

"Nice and snug. Don't ever forget me, dear Pluto." Angela cooed as she kissed the cheek of the demon hound, catching Vivian's attention. The maid had fixed a spike collar onto the creature, looking at him with such affection. Vivian was shocked to learn that Angela had been keeping the demon hound as some kind of pet, but she was even more so when she learned that the demon hound had the 'habit' of turning human when excited. And apparently, he was excited.

"And put some bloody clothes on, alright?! Don't just let it all hang out there!" Shouted Baldroy. The demon hound looked unbothered by this, but poor Mey-Rin's nose was bleeding. Vivian herself was a bit red. It wasn't like she hadn't seen a man naked before, but to see _it_ 'hang out there' as Baldory put was a bit much for her to take. She wondered why the Earl had taken the creature on as a guard dog, but he had said it himself he had an odd collection when it came to his staff. Now it seemed it had a full set. As for Vivian, she supposed if she could survive living with one demon, then she could survive with two.

 _At the very least, the demon hound doesn't like being near me since I took his canine and bruised his eye, so he will probably avoid me. And he cannot talk, so there's that bonus._

"Um, well...it was fun Angela." Shyly spoke Finnian with a smile. Angela turned to him, her expression sweet.

"I'm sure we'll meet again someday." The maid stepped closer to him, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, "My sweet boy."

The poor boy turned several alarming shades of red and his eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets. Vivian frowned. While she and Angela were not close, the maid had been kind and concerned with her ever since Vivian arrived. But Vivian still could not help but feel Angela was wearing those emotions as a mask. And what was it Lord Barrymore said to her?

 _"She said you were powerful. That you would stop the Queen's Guard Dog…"_

Vivian's grip on the cane in her lap tightened at the memory of his assault on her. But his words were merely the ravings of a lunatic. They hardly mattered now anyway, as the opposite had come true instead.

"If you're finished, shall we go?" Asked Sebastian. To Vivian, he seemed readier than anyone to leave this place and was not charmed by the long, heartful goodbyes Angela felt necessary to dole out. Angela smiled at Sebastian, but Vivian noted it again seemed empty.

"Certainly. Maybe someday I'll come to visit Pluto at the estate?"

"I don't know if that would be a good idea." Angela's face fell in surprise at the demon's reply. Sebastian himself in response put on his own empty smile, his red eyes flashing threateningly, "You were able to tame a demon hound. That's a task not many people are able can do. You seem to have a talent for wrapping lesser beings around your finger."

Sebastian said pleasantly enough, but there was a vague dislike in his tone. That, and he glanced discreetly at Vivian when he spoke this. Was he insulting her already? As for Angela she merely continued to smile, but Vivian couldn't help but notice that eyes had darkened.

"Let's go, Sebastian." The young Earl spoke from his seat opposite Vivian. At the command, Sebastian bowed to Angela, and climbing aboard, whipped the horses into action. Vivian jolted as the carriage moved forward, feeling for all the world it might be better if she threw herself off of the thing before it was too late. But it was. She had made her decision, and she would abide by it.

"Goodbye! I hope I'll see you again!" Finnian called back towards Angela as the servant's carriage, driven by Tanaka, also followed. Vivian could see Angela waving back at them, laughing and smiling. Despite her kindness to her over the last few days, Vivian decided she would not miss the maid.

 _In fact, I have the oddest hope that I never will see her again. I think she and Lord Barrymore were having an affair. There's no accounting for taste I suppose._

The road back to London would take hours for them to travel. Vivian had been settled for this and had her _Beeton's Christmas Annual_ out for her to enjoy as well as the scenery. The demon had left the top of the carriage down, and the bleak hills of Houndsworth soon became the rolling green of the typical English countryside. Winter was on its way, and there was a chill to the air signifying the end of autumn. It was rather lovely, but Vivian was not really in the mood to appreciate it.

Vivian continued to sit silently, her book idle. Occasionally they would pass a village and then a few passersby would wave or bid hello, but other than that no word was spoken. Vivian normally would have appreciated this, as she always got headaches on long carriage rides, but there was something niggling in her mind. She wanted to wait until she and the Earl perhaps had a moment alone, but it seemed that would not happen for some time yet. Vivian was unsure on whether to wallow in her curiosity or end it when she decided there was little point.

"Earl Phantomhive?" She asked, and the young boy across from her met her eyes, "If we might take a few moments to discuss some details of our arrangement, I would be grateful."

A sly smile turned up the corners of the boy's lips, but what he found so amusing Vivian could only guess.

"Of course, Lady Cartwright."

"For starters, if you and all your staff might address me simply as Miss Vivian, I would be grateful. In addition, I wish you to treat me as a simple secretary, not a noblewoman. In public at the very least. I am trying to keep a low profile after all." She explained tersely.

If the Earl was going to keep his promise to help her remain out of the grips of the Order, then Vivian was going to take full advantage. If the right precautions were taken, then perhaps her whereabouts would remain unknown for months. All Vivian had was a title after all, as she certainly did not have the airs or appearance of a noble. Perhaps one or two people in high society might recognize her face, but she would deal with that possibility as it came. But suspicion might be raised if the Earl continued to call and treat her as 'a lady'.

"A simple secretary, eh?" He scoffed, "Very well. And as my secretary, you may call me young master or my lord. Understood?"

"Yes. Also, am I to understand the others in your household do not know of Sebastian's… _condition_?" Vivian pressed, whispering the last word. The demon was directly behind her on the driver's seat, but whether he was paying any attention to the conversation Vivian had no indication. Still, she caught the Earl glancing up at the demon, chuckling.

"No, they do not."

"So then it is a priority of mine to keep your contract as well as the Faustian symbol on your body a secret?" Vivian deduced, gesturing to the eyepatch the Earl wore. The Earl smirked then, and Vivian supposed that she had impressed him with her diligence for detail.

"Very well." She nodded before continuing, wishing she had paper and pen with her for notes, "Now then, will I be handling all your social arrangements, your tutoring schedule, as well as your dealings as the Queen's Guard Dog and the necessaries of the Funtom Corporation? Or will you simply have me sitting behind a desk and copying notes?"

This, truthfully, was what Vivian wished to know. Being around demons and their victims she was used to. But while she accepted becoming the Earl's secretary, that word had a thousand different meanings depending on what he wanted from her. Many nobles had individual secretaries for social, business, household management, and sometimes even for their own children. While Vivian did not really mind which she would become, she'd rather have a clear idea of how much work would be expected of her.

The Earl chuckled again, and Vivian wondered why she found the sound reassuring.

"If you think you can handle it, I will have you take over Sebastian's work on the Funtom Corporation's recordkeeping, and perhaps in future my social engagements. And should we be given a case from the Queen you will, of course, attend me and offer opinions when I ask for your expertise."

Vivian interpreted all that meant for her, and after a moment nodded again to the Earl.

"Of course."

By his smile, the Earl thought this conversation over with and went back to staring at the scenery. Vivian, however, was formulating the words to her next question. It wasn't as pressing as her previous, but still, it needed answering. She was already languishing in self-hatred and shame, she didn't need to languishing in uncertainty as well.

"My lord? If I may ask of my effects? The items left behind in my old apartment?" Vivian asked, gaining the Earl's attention again.

"I've already taken the liberty of having Sebastian arrange their delivery to the Phantomhive Manor. Items that seemed of importance at any rate." The Earl answered, sounding bored rather suddenly. Vivian was surprised by this unexpected kindness.

"T-thank you, sir." She smiled, hoping it was genuine. Not many items in her apartment were all that important to her, but she really wished her hope chest had been one of the items to be brought over. Vivian had another request though, and so pressed on before her resolution could waver.

"There is one last favor I would like to ask. See, my cat, Georgette. I was hoping to-"

"The answer is no." The Earl cut off.

"You didn't even hear the question!" Vivian bristled at the interruption. She then shook her head. She owed her living to this brat now and had to give him the respect that was due to his station.

"I'm allergic to cats but moreover I do not like them. I won't allow one of those beasts to be in my presence let alone living my manor." The Earl explained in annoyance.

Vivian felt her jaw go slack. Not like cats? How could any decent human being claim to not adore any feline? Perhaps he was bitten by one when younger? Vivian could not feel sorry for him though, as it meant that the one creature she could call a friend in this world would have to remain living on the streets of London. Poor Georgette was probably waiting outside the window of her apartment, waiting for Vivian's return…or had moved on to another family already. Cats were fickle like that, but Vivian could still not fathom such outright dislike of them.

 _Whoever said children had beautiful minds had obviously never met this one._ Vivian thought bitterly.

Turning back to the scenery, Vivian decided there would be no point in pleading with the Earl. She was living under his rules and would have to abide by them. However much she disliked it. And she disliked it _thoroughly_. Vivian sighed in frustration and feeling a headache coming on, closed her eyes.

 **.**

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Vivian's eyes shot open as she felt the carriage start to slow. She must have fallen asleep because the day around them had worn into the late evening. It was no surprise to her that she was so tired to have slept the whole way, but it was a tad embarrassing when the Earl grinned knowingly at her.

"Ah, awake just in time. We have arrived." He announced. Vivian frowned, not understanding. In answer, the Earl pointed past the forest bordered lane they were driving down. Turning in her seat, Vivian almost gasped as a manor came into view.

The lofty manor had a substantial number of stories, and its outer face was opened with too many windows to count. The walls were of light sandstone, hailing to an older Georgian design, with ivy creeping up the corners. From left to right there was little symmetry, and Vivian guessed that over time rooms had been added to the manor as the family's wealth grew. On all sides, the manor appeared to be surrounded by the forest and numerous gardens, and to Vivian's delight, she saw a greenhouse not far off. There was a wide set of stairs that led to the main doors of the manor, and here was were Sebastian stopped the carriage.

Stepping off, the demon's boots crunched on the gravel of the drive, but Vivian paid him little mind as he opened the carriage door and assisted her out.

"Well, what do you think?" The young Earl smirked as he stepped out after his guest. Vivian was embarrassed by her astonishment, and so quickly schooled her expression.

"A mansion worthy of the Phantomhive name, that is for certain. It emanates of taste and nobility." She answered with a smile. It was a fine manor, truly. Her own family's estate was larger than the Phantomhive's, but there was something more refined in its more barefaced architecture and its closeness to nature.

The young master frowned at the compliment as he offered his arm to her.

"Do not waste my time with flattery, Miss Vivian."

Vivian rose a brow as she accepted the Earl's assistance up the grand stairs. Most nobles appreciated having someone fawn over every little thing, but she supposed it only made sense that the young master would hate anything of the kind. With him, she supposed honesty would be by and large the best policy.

 _Perhaps he's not such a brat after all…_

"My apologies, sir." Vivian said, unable to help her smirk, "Truth be told I find it rather strange that the building was designed from an older style even though it had only been built a few years ago."

"You can tell?" The young boy's eyes widened in surprise. Vivian nodded, looking back up to the unassuming face of the manor.

"Houses are like people. They emit a certain…air, if you will. A breath of life. This one speaks of youth." Her smirk widened then as she then whispered, "That, and I can sense the demonic powers that crafted this place. Your demon rebuilt it for you, didn't he?"

The Earl's frown was replaced by a smirk of his own.

"You will prove to be of great use yet, Miss Vivian."

"I do hope so, my lord."

Having ordered Finnian to take the carriage to the stable, Sebastian met his master and Miss Vivian at the door when they finally made it up the stairs. Between the Earl and the cane, it was easily mastered for Vivian. Opening the doors to the manor, the demon bowed deeply, allowing the two to enter.

Vivian again had to hide her amazement. If the outside was any kind of marvel, the inside was even more so. The foyer was wide and spacious, surrounded by a flight of split stairs that started opposite the door. On the walls, there were embellished panel moldings and exquisite paintings, and hanging chandeliers lighted the space. Vivian supposed the demon used his powers to light them before they entered, but somehow the manor was not oppressed with his aura.

Politely, the young Earl removed his arm from Vivian.

"It is late. I shall have supper in my study and then retire." He announced before turning towards his demon.

"Sebastian, see Miss Vivian to her new accommodations and then bring me the latest records. I want to review the last few days."

"Yes, my lord." The demon bowed at the command. His expression was blank and perfectly poised. The true mask of a servant.

"Tomorrow I shall see that you get a tour of the manor and become acquainted with your new occupation," Continued the Earl, turning once more to Vivian, "For tonight, please rest and make yourself at home. Tell Sebastian whatever you desire for dinner and he shall bring it to you."

Vivian, knowing this as her dismissal, curtsied to the Earl as best she could.

"Thank you, my lord. I look forward to becoming intimate with the Phantomhive ways."

The Earl smirked at her diligently chosen words. He nodded in parting before leaving Vivian and the others. The other servants were inside now, and Sebastian was informing them on how to unpack. Vivian supposed there was nothing for her to wait, as no doubt one of the servants would be directed soon enough to show her to her room. Glancing to the checkered marble floor, she marveled at the reflection of herself she was able to see.

 _This place is practically sparkling. And here I thought the other servants besides Sebastian were complete idiots. Perhaps I was wrong._

"Miss Vivian, if you would follow me, I will show you to your room," Sebastian announced as he stepped before her, his hand placed over his chest graciously. Vivian looked him up and down as if he had instead offered to throw her from the tallest tower this manor had. She wanted to request that another servant, perhaps Mey-Rin, instead showed her, but they all appeared busy. Besides, Vivian did agree with the demon that they would be more civil with one another. Perhaps it was time to test how civil a demon could be.

With a sigh of resignation, Vivian nodded. The demon turned for the stairs, beckoning her to follow. He had seemed to take into account her bad leg, as his pace was slow and deliberate. Vivian took advantage of his consideration by studying the numerous halls and turns they took. The manor was a maze of family portraits and doors, too many for Vivian to count or remember. It was overwhelming, and she wondered if a year was truly enough time to learn her way around.

 _The tour tomorrow will be informative then. Most important will be to learn where Sebastian's room is. Hopefully, I am as opposite that damned place as much as physically possible…_

Soon enough however Sebastian stopped before a door. Opening it, he gave a small bow as Vivian entered.

"This is the Garden Room," He explained as he followed after her, "The former Lady Phantomhive was known to let her most favorite guests stay here, as it offers an exquisite view of the manor grounds."

Vivian looked about the room, taking in the soft blue and white wallpaper and the lower paneling of dark wood. There was a window opposite the door which overlooked one of the gardens behind the manor, hence the name Vivian supposed. Below the window was a cushioned seat, perfect for reading, and a writing desk and wardrobe on either side of it. There was also a black marble fireplace with chaise lounge sofa and a coffee table before it. To the left of these was another door, one Vivian assumed led to a water closet.

"Please, do make yourself at comfortable. If the décor is not to your taste, inform me so that arrangements can be made." Sebastian offered as Vivian turned towards the large canopy bed. At the foot of it, she was happy to see her hope chest, and she breathed a sigh of relief she did not realize she had been holding.

"No. No, it is very elegant." She told him distractedly as she then noticed a dress box on the bed. Carefully she approached it.

"That is your Phantomhive uniform," Sebastian informed her before she had time to ask. Sensing he wished her to approve of it, Vivian opened the parcel. When the lid and packing paper was discarded, Vivian laid out her uniform.

It was…elegant. But Vivian had not really known what to expect. It was nothing unfamiliar. A button white blouse with a frilled fall at the neck, a dark sapphire colored vest with black buttons and silk trim, and a riding style jacket. There was also a black waist belt and a floor length skirt that matched the jacket. The material was sturdy but soft, costly yet not gaudy.

"It's…lovely." She admitted. From behind her, the demon approached.

"It is a gift from our master, designed by Nina Hopkins. Her family has provided the finest quality of suits and dresses for the Phantomhive line as well as staff. I shall pass your compliments along to her." He explained as he took the dress from her and laid it back within the box.

Vivian had heard of that name before. Miss Hopkins was known as the 'Tailor that announces the seasons'. This dress must have cost a pretty penny then.

 _And not a single one had better come from my promised 500 pounds_ , Vivian thought with a growl as she watched the demon take the box over to the wardrobe. He opened it and Vivian could see other dresses hanging already inside. Stepping aside, the demon allowed her to look over them.

"The young master requests that you wear it when you must represent the Phantomhive name, such as on business outings, meetings, or when we are on a case. Other than that, there is a selection of day and evening gowns for you to select from."

Vivian nodded and looked back towards the dresses. There seemed to be a mix of skirts and blouses as well, and aligned at the bottom of the wardrobe were several pairs of boots and heels. There were several other drawers lined inside, probably for jewelry or ribbons.

"So generous." She muttered, not certain what else to say. Vivian wanted to dismiss the demon now so that she might rest, but it seemed Sebastian would not so easily be gotten rid of.

"Yes, I believe you will find them to be tasteful, modern pieces. However, should you miss you more matronly apparel, simply let me know and I shall provide." He informed her, but catching the twist of his lips Vivian knew he was insulting her. Or rather, her taste in clothes.

 _Matronly? Well,_ Vivian harumphed, _I_ _suppose wearing anything less than a pair of thigh-high leather heels might seem prim to a demon._

"They will do for now."

"It is an excellent dress if I do say so myself. Note the faint horizontal stripes on the skirt as well as the jacket." Continued the demon as he began to put away Vivian's new uniform. Looking closer, she could see thin grey stripes running down the dark blue material, "When Miss Hopkins saw your rather slender measurements, she decided that in order to create the perfect for silhouette the stripes would be needed. Horizontal stripes add to the appearance of the figure, but they are perfectly faded so as to be appropriate for day and evening wear."

"Since when does a demon," Vivian shook her head, correcting herself, "uh, sorry, a _butler_ know so much about lady's fashion?"

"If I could not acquire a suitable uniform for a Phantomhive staff member, well, what kind of butler would I be?" Sebastian grinned knowingly as he finished hanging the uniform. Vivian had many answers to that question but kept her insults to herself when something occurred to her.

"Your master had a dress fashioned for me before. The violet one that I was buried in. It fit perfectly…" She hesitated to banish the memories of waking up in the coffin before giving the demon a stern look, "How did you get my measurements?"

Sebastian seemed unable to help himself as an amused smirk grew on his lips.

"Well, it was not easy. You hide your figure under such frumpish material that it took some observation to be certain exactly. But I was able to become familiar with what lay beneath your layers, so to speak."

As his dark eyes dragged over her figure, emphasizing his meaning, Vivian felt herself shudder.

 _Damn this demon!_

"Familiarity breeds contempt," She snarled, "Something you and I will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt by the end of this year I wager."

Vivian supposed that, while demon would not be able to harm her due to his master's orders and their own little truce would ensure that they would not impede one another, nothing had been promised by the way of verbal barbs. In some perverse way, Vivian was glad for it. It would offer them both some kind of relief in each other's presence, otherwise, Vivian herself might burst with her anger and hate for the demon here and now. It seemed this realization went both ways though, as Sebastian smirked darkly at her as he strode closer.

"Come now Miss Vivian, that is hardly the entire maxim. I believe philosopher Apuleius said 'familiarity breeds contempt, while rarity wins admiration'," Here he paused, choosing his next words carefully to ensure her distress, "And I will say, as a human tainted by both the blood of angels and the flesh of demons, you are a rarity if ever there was."

Vivian only arched a brow. If the demon thought he could insult her with the truth, then he was sorely mistaken. She did that well enough on her own anyway. Having had enough of his presence, she waved her hand dismissively.

"That will be all for now, Sebastian. In an hour, have Mey-Rin bring me some broth for dinner."

"No dessert?" He smiled teasingly, "I've noticed you have quite the weakness for sweets."

"No. My appetite is spoiled. Must be the air in here. It's foul with you." Vivian retorted pointedly. The demon's aura, tamed before, now flared out at the insult, rolling over Vivian as if in warning. But Sebastian continued to grin.

"Then I shall fetch some plants for you to purify and refresh the room. A peace lily perhaps, or jasmine to soothe you in your sleep. You do look in need of a good rest, what with those unbecoming bags under your eyes."

Vivian felt her hand twitch, ready to deliver a painful spell that would burn away all the demon's hair. She never could the chance to, as Sebastian then bowed.

"Goodnight, Miss Vivian. Rest well."

 _Not bloody likely, s_ he thought as she watched him shut the door securely behind him. Turning, she looked over the room again. Her prison for the next year. Coming up to the window, she could see the late evening become night. Her second day of servitude to the Earl Phantomhive was nearly over.

"Three hundred and sixty-three more days to go. Lord…I'll never survive." She groaned.

* * *

Hello darlings! I know I've kept you waiting for this next chapter, but other projects called to me as well as finals. But it's time I returned to this story. I hope to update again soon, and please know that all of your comments, favs, and follows are greatly appreciated! I'm so glad many of you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope it was the same for this one even though it was shorter and a lot less action packed.

Please join Vivian and Sebastian in the next chapter as both find themselves the target of the Earl. Armed with a camera, the other servants interupt the routine Vivian has fallen into and introducing her to the daily mayhem of the Phantomhive Manor. Even worse, it annoys Sebastian, though he takes advantage of the chaos to learn more about the woman he still refuses to acknowledge as his mate.


	10. Posing in the Garden

**Chapter 10; Posing in the Garden:**

Vivian awoke to a gentle knocking. Bleary eyes opening, Vivian dreaded to discover the light of morning streaming through her window. She squeezed her eyes shut again and pulled the blanket over her head, wishing to remain in denial for just one more minute.

"Miss Vivian?" Called out Mey-Rin from beyond the door as she knocked again.

"Yes?" Vivian groaned as she heard the maid enter.

"It is six in the morning, Miss Vivian. You requested to be woken, yes?" The maid asked timidly. Vivian made an attempt to answer, but her words came out as a slurred whine.

"Do you need help dressing this morning, miss?"

"No thank you, Mey-Rin," Vivian sighed as she sat herself up, knowing there was little point in resisting. She felt the wound in her side flare up, but she bit back her groan, "I can manage by myself."

Mey-Rin hesitated by the door a moment before curtseying and making her leave. Vivian laid still a moment, pretending she had all the time in the world before she resentfully slid out of bed to start her morning.

Making her way over to the water closet, she washed her face in the basin and then used the toilet. It was such a relief to have indoor plumbing at her disposal again. The private water closet itself was a luxury, with whitewashed walls, a porcelain sink, and checkered floor. There was even a clawed bath opposite a fireplace with a full-length mirror beside it. Truly, this was luxury.

 _Well, it is when compared to sharing one water closet with an entire floor of prostitutes and their customers. Even so, I think I preferred those roommates to the ones I have now,_ Vivian thought dryly.

Exiting the water closet, Vivian went over to the wardrobe. She chose a simple white blouse and grey, high waisted skirt. Lacing up a pair of heeled boots and taming her hair back with a large blue ribbon, she was ready for her ninth day in service to the Earl Phantomhive.

Leaving her room and turning down the hall, Vivian made her way to where the record's office was. Despite the many trips she had made to it the past week, Vivian still would end up taking at least one wrong turn. The manor was simply too large, and even though the young Earl personally took her for a tour the day after they arrived, Vivian knew she would continue to lose her way for a while longer.

 _If I recall from the tour, there is a library around here somewhere. Perhaps in the next month, I might actually find it. Curse my ill sense of direction!_

As for her work, Vivian found that she had no complaints. After her tour with the Earl, she was told to rest the remainder of the day, but the next morning Vivian found herself face to face with the 'real' Tanaka. Vivian hardly recognized the house steward, so tall and formal and...human looking for once. He dedicated several hours to explaining her new duties, and while the old man did deflate a few times, Vivian appreciated his instruction.

The Earl thought it best for Vivian to start with some of the simpler tasks regarding his business, the Funtom Corporation, and Vivian was grateful to be eased into her new occupation until her health returned. In a way, it was easier than her work for Morgan & Son's. All she really needed to do here was confirm the financial ledgers that were delivered in reports for the Earl to inspect, then answering in letters any statements of business. While this was hardly thrilling, at least she didn't need to fetch the Earl tea every five minutes. And despite his all too serious yet mischievous ways, Vivian was finding herself growing accustomed to the young Earl. She half-expected life here to be filled with daily assassinations or chasing monsters, but the Phantomhive Manor was almost eerily quiet at times. The servants were noisy, no doubt about that, but Vivian hardly saw them. Her duties and theirs rarely had them running into one another. This was acceptable to her, especially when it came to a certain black butler.

To all her surprise, the demon did _not_ haunt Vivian's every step. Though she often saw him whenever she met with the Earl, Vivian was happy to see that the butler wished to have as little to do with her as she did him. Even his aura bothered her little now. The demon was possibly taming it out of some courtesy for her while she recovered, though Vivian could still feel the edge of its presence no matter where she went. But besides the demon, she had to admit her time here was almost pleasent.

 _Only three hundred and fifty-six more days to survive through. If this luck continues to hold, I might actually start to enjoy it here._ Vivian thought, but her false optimism had her chuckling at herself.

 _I'd think I would sooner allow Pluto to use me as a chew toy again._

Finally, Vivian reached the record's office.

It was on the basement floor, not far from the kitchen. No doubt it had been placed there for easy access for the house steward. But seeing as how Tanaka did very little, only Vivian or Sebastian seemed to use the room. The demon was not here now though, as he usually did the household finance later in the day, but there was the usual tray of breakfast he left for Vivian on her desk. This morning's breakfast was a cup of tea and porridge with wild berries, which Vivian devoured with relish.

Having learned that she preferred to take her meals for herself, Sebastian delivered Vivian's morning and evening meals in the office or her bedroom. The Earl on several occasions expressed his wish that she dined with him, but Vivian used her ill health as an excuse to avoid him and the butler.

Setting aside the tray, Vivian went over to the standing desk where the adding machine and typewriter where along with an oil lamp. Behind it was several cabinets where important files were kept that only she and Sebastian had keys for. There were also several bells aligned on the wall, each labeled for various rooms throughout the household. Vivian had learned quickly that three rings meant the Earl was summoning her.

It would not ring for a few hours yet though, so warming her fingers up, Vivian got to work. Reports from the various branches or warehouses belonging to the Funtom Company were delivered at dawn. Vivian was to take the lot of them and make them into one cohesive report for the Earl which she would give after he had his own breakfast. The click of the keytops as Vivian typed was a familiar and comforting sound that filled the office, fooling her into thinking this would be yet another quiet and uneventful day.

Cruel irony came in the form of a knock. Looking up, Vivian saw a young man standing outside the office window. He waved in a friendly manner, and when she came over and opened the window, he smiled up at her.

"Good morning miss. I have come to deliver the Earl Phantomhive's purchase from the London Occult Society's most recent auction."

Vivian blinked in surprise as the young man lifted up a package for her to see.

"Oh?" She frowned, unaware of any such delivery. But the young man produced paperwork that seemed to be in proper order, so without fuss, she signed for it. The man tipped his hat to her.

"Have a lovely day, miss."

"The same to you."

Shutting the window, Vivian took the package to the stand-up desk. She supposed could take it to the Earl when it was time to make her report to him. Vivian wouldn't have guessed the young master had any interest in the occult, but then again, he _did_ have a demon as a butler. About to go back to her work, Vivian couldn't help but glance over the package order again. The words 'camera' and 'Talbot Collection' caught her eye.

 _Talbot?_ Vivian frowned, _I can't help but think that name is familiar somehow._

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 **.**

 **.**

Soon enough it was time for Vivian's morning report. When she greeted the Earl in his office she was delighted to see that Sebastian was not there. Vivian's brief report was made all the briefer when she set the London Occult Society's delivery down on the young Earl's desk. The sleepy eyes of the child instantly lit up when he saw it. Vivian was quickly dismissed after that, but as she left she could hear the young Earl ring for the other servants.

 _What could he want with them at this hour?_ Vivian wondered. But, seeing as it had nothing to do with her, she continued on her way back to the record's office.

That is, until, she got very lost.

Vivian wasn't quite certain how it happened, but she had ended up turning down a hallway she didn't recognize. It was long and dark, and unfortunately, Vivian discovered it was also a dead end. Turning back, Vivian cursed as she retraced her steps, but an open door soon caught her eye. Nearing it, Vivian felt her breath catch in her throat.

 _The library!_

Unable to resist, Vivian went inside. She almost smiled at the sight.

Wall to wall shelves filled with books greeted her, welcoming her with the scent of old paper and leather. The room was very large with several sofas, tables, and chairs arranged for reading. There were several wide windows with the curtains drawn back, filling the room with light. Unable to help herself, Vivian went over to the nearest shelf.

Since she had finished with her _Beeton's Christmas Annual_ a while ago, Vivian had been wanting something else to entertain her in the evenings when she was finished working. But her efforts to avoid the Earl and demon, as well as her general exhaustion from her illness, kept her from seeking the library out. Vivian was certainly glad to come across it now though, as several promising and familiar titles caught her eye.

Just as the pile in her arms started to get too heavy to manage, the clock in the library chimed nine thirty.

"Oh, damn. I have to get back to work." Vivian muttered as an apology to the other shelves she had yet to explore. It was probably for the best though, as she still wished to continue to make a good impression on the young Earl. That, and she could swear she could hear something…whispering behind the shelves.

Vivian shook her head as she turned for the door.

 _No, no. Do not start. It's bad enough I died, came back to life, and nearly got myself killed all over again, but I do not have the time to deal with the possibility that I am slowly going insane–_

Suddenly the library doors were pulled open, and standing before Vivian was the demon. A swell of demonic presence overpowered Vivian, making her feel faint, but she forced herself to remain steady. They looked at one another, both surprised to see the other, though Sebastian was the first to recover. Glancing her up and down, his lips settled into a teasing grin.

"All those beautiful dresses the young master bought for you, and yet you still choose to dress like a schoolmarm." Sebastian tutted in disapproval.

"I've never asked for any of them!" Vivian immediately bristled, "Besides, it would be unseemly for me to dress above my station. I'm the Earl's secretary, after all, not his guest or mistress."

Sebastian arched a wry brow at her bluntness but then nodded.

"Quite true." He smirked before eyeing her suspiciously, "Now, might I ask what you are doing in the library?"

Vivian wanted to tell the demon that was none of his damned, and she meant that literally, business, but she decided to take a steady breath instead. It wouldn't do her any good to be upset at the demon. It was a waste of energy after all, and he was not worth it or her time. Side-stepping the demon, she tried to move past him.

"With my health recovering, I am finding I have more time to myself after my work is completed," Vivian explained airily.

"I see, and you were craving a little… _company_."

Vivian felt a vein pulse in her temple. Why did he have to make that sound so…so…naughty? She shook the thought away and brushed past the demon. This however only gave him the chance to closely observe the titles of the books she was carrying.

" _Goethe's Faust_ … _The Woman in White_ …and _The Goblin Market and Other Poems_? My, my, I did not think you enjoyed such sensationalistic and romantic works." Sebastian said with amusement, "And here I expected you only read the _Demon Codex_ or some such drivel."

Vivian blushed at his remark. So he knew about that? She kept that book under her pillow most of the time, and the memory of him searching her flat back in London while she slept crept to the forefront of her mind. She tried to shake the memory away and attempted to ignore the demon. She turned down the hall in the direction she hoped would lead back to the record's office.

Sebastian, however, was not done with her.

"Well then, since you are feeling better, I have a task for you. Today a journalist from a prodigious London newspaper, Brit Business, will be arriving this afternoon to conduct an interview about the Funtom Corporation. He will be speaking to the Funtom's General Director, Tanaka, and you. You will help prepare a statement to give that will hopefully cover any of his questions."

The vein in Vivian's temple burst.

"What?! Why wasn't I told sooner?!" She shouted as she turned back, unable to help the panic in her voice. An interview with the press? A single afternoon was not enough time to prepare for that! Did he want to see her fail?! By the expression of dark delight the demon wore it was obvious he did.

"Oh, I do apologize. Do you not think you will have enough time to prepare yourself?" He asked with feigning concern even as he still wore his smirk. Vivian bit down on her tongue to suppress all the curses that clawed up her throat.

 _Damn this demon! Damn him to the lowest pits of Hell!_

In the haze of her anger, however, Vivian was able to deduce the cruel reason behind the demon's actions. This was a test, one she should have seen coming. Whether it was one administered by the demon alone or from the Earl, odds were any failure on her part would reach the Earl's ears. If she was successful, however, perhaps then the Earl would start treating her as a full-fledged employee. Steadying herself with a deep breath, Vivian rose to the challenge.

"I will be ready, rest assured. I will not let the Funtom Corporation down." She gritted through her teeth. Sebastian's smirk curled wider as if pleased by her resolve. This further angered Vivian, and as she walked away, she could not help but mutter to herself.

"Saints preserve me. I'm willing to bet that Satan himself is not half as vile as you are. Sometimes I think I'd much rather deal with him."

Knowing full well Sebastian heard her, Vivian was ready for whatever remark he had in supply. What she was not ready for was how it whispered intimately in her ear.

"Ah, but are you not aware, Miss Vivian? It is always better with the devil you know than the devil you don't."

Turning sharply, Vivian was prepared to fight the demon away, but to her surprise, he was not to be found. The library doors were closed and she could hear him move about, cleaning the room. With a growl of frustration, Vivian marched back to the record's office, glad to be rid of him for a few hours at least.

* * *

Sebastian should have known that his meeting with Miss Vivian this morning would set the tone for the rest of his day. Ever since opening the library doors to find her standing there, surprised, pale, and, of course, undesirable, trouble had followed him.

Under some order by the young master, the three oafs had taken to following Sebastian throughout his morning tasks. He could hear them whisper to one another from wherever they hid. If one could call the incessant chattering and bickering those three hissed at one another whispers. Apparently, they wanted him to remain still for a full ten seconds in order to take his picture. Logically, Sebastian deduced he was to be tested with the Talbot camera then. He had heard the delivery Miss Vivian had accepted earlier, and knowing that his master had recently purchased only one item from the London Occult Society, further deduced the nature of the oafs' hopeless mission.

 _Honestly, if the brat only ordered me to, I would have to remain still for the picture. But no, as with everything the young master must make a game out of it._

Sebastian, if he was to be truthful, did not find the game to be wholly unenjoyable. Besides the incident with Finni smashing a billiard table through a wall, it was amusing to give the other servants a taste of their own medicine. So often they had foiled or inconvenienced him in his own tasks, now it was his turn. More so, it was enjoyable to see the young master become more and more frustrated with the failed attempts. Summoning Sebastian to his office just to have him fix his ribbon necktie while the other servants were perched outside the window seemed like a last, desperate attempt. But knowing his master, Sebastian knew there would be more challenges to come.

 _And here I thought today would be rather tedious. Still, it would not do to have my picture taken. If the Talbot camera indeed can show what one cares most about this world, I am afraid I will be in a rather tight spot…_

Knowing it was imperative to remain one step ahead of his master, Sebastian decided to see what more could be learned about the young master's sudden interest in photography.

"This is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought it would. Some measly photographs shouldn't be so tough!" Groaned Baldroy. He and the others were seated in the hallway in secret conference. The morning had gotten away from them without any progress to show for it.

"Sebastian and Miss Vivian are just too quick!" Finnian sighed in despair.

Sebastian's brow quirked up in curiosity. Miss Vivian? The master wished for her to be photographed as well? These were stakes not to be taken lightly then. Sebastian suddenly found his amusement wilting away.

"Yeah…where are they right now anyway?" Asked Baldroy.

In answer, Sebastian decided to end their little conference. Suddenly opening the door adjacent to them, the servants gasped in surprise as he glared down at each one of them.

"There you are. I have a task for the three of you."

"What is it, Sebastian?" Mey-Rin asked, eager as ever to please the butler.

"Over there," Sebastian said as he glanced to a window opposite them. The others followed his gaze, gaping to see the large red eyes of Pluto staring at them from the other side of the glass. Immediately, Finni jumped up to coo at the foul thing lovingly, smudging the glass with his face.

"The mangy pooch? What do you want us to do?" Baldroy grumbled as he and Mey-Rin stood too.

"We'll be receiving a guest this afternoon. That thing is offensive. You're to transfer it out of sight before the guest arrives." Sebastian explained. Baldroy turned and frowned at the demon.

"He's kind of a big fellow. Where should we put him?"

"I'll let you three figure that out," Sebastian replied indifferently. Turning from the servants, he made for the door he had just entered from.

"Oi! We got our own jobs to take care of too you know!" Baldroy shouted at Sebastian's retreating back. Turning to look over his shoulder, Sebastian gave him a cold smile.

"You do have until this afternoon. I'm sure you can take care of it between your other tasks."

Before any of them could reply, Sebastian shut the doors behind him, enjoying the silence that followed.

"Maybe now I can do my own job without interruption."

With so much to do and so little time, Sebastian moved with purpose. The interview with the journalist was the most pressing matter, and so he sought out Tanaka to make certain the steward would be prepared for it. The old man looked apprehensive about the arduous task ahead, but with a few rousing words from Sebastian, Tanaka agreed to be ready and 'real' in time. Following this, it was time for the master's afternoon tea.

To say the young master looked perturbed would be an understatement. For such a devious and manipulative child, he had difficulty containing his disappointment. But then, what child enjoyed losing?

"Something wrong?" Sebastian asked as he set the sandwiches and tart down on the desk. The young master, who had been glancing at the window behind his chair, schooled his face.

"No, it's nothing. I think I'll take my supper in here today."

Sebastian placed a hand over his heart and bowed. If the young master wished for more time alone to scheme, then far be it from Sebastian to deny him the opportunity.

"Of course, my lord."

Straightening, Sebastian eyed the dollhouse perched on the young master's desk. He had not paid it much attention this morning, but looking at it now he could see three toy soldiers scattered beside it. Nearby, there was a black ram.

Sebastian's lips curled into a smile. The young master, pretending innocence, began eating the finger sandwiches. Sebastian debated whether or not he should reveal his hand now when he noticed another figurine by the dollhouse.

A white lamb.

Knowing what, or who, it represented, Sebastian decided it was better to make his exit now. Shutting the doors to the office behind him, he left the young master to scheme and play his little game.

For Sebastian however, other thoughts were stirred.

Miss Vivian's stay in the Phantomhive Manor so far had been anything but pleasant for Sebastian, but he knew things could be much worse. As it was, Miss Vivian seemed as eager to avoid him as he was her. Their interactions, delightfully brief, were usually filled with hatred masked with politeness. Every now and then one of them could not help but verbally bit at the other, but all in all both seemed committed to their agreed upon civility. A year's time was nothing for a demon, and though this arrangement was far from pleasant, it was livable.

Livable…if Sebastian was ever guilty of a lie, this was the greatest one he had ever told himself.

It was nigh unbearable. Though he had firmly decided that no action would be taken regarding Miss Vivian and his misplaced instincts, still they howled. Sebastian resolutely refused Miss Vivian for his mate in his mind and soul, and never for all of Hell would these be swayed. But his body was another story.

When she first came to the manor, he hardly felt her presence. Sick and weak as she was, she remained mostly in her room. But with her strength coming back she began to leave her mark. With every room she explored, with every doorknob she turned, with every fork that touched her lips, her scent spread through the manor like a disease. Sebastian, out of courtesy of their deal, had at first reduced his demonic presence so as not to make Miss Vivian sick with it. Now he had to surround himself with such potency simply to guard himself against the scent of roses that plagued him. Miss Vivian had not commented on it yet, either too stubborn to ask him to desist or used to his demonic aura herself by now, but Sebastian hardly cared when she was the reason for it. The servants, however, were beginning to show signs of being affected by his demonic presence, fatigued and nervous, while the shadows of the manor once more stirred by the contention in the demon.

To be like this, it was hardly seemly, certainly not for a butler. For so long Sebastian had only bent himself to his hunger and masters, but now it seemed his instincts would have the same sway.

The only relief Sebastian had was in his tasks. He had long enjoyed the role of butler, but now it was more of devotion for the respite the mindless and repetitive tasks offered. That, and the little fantasies Sebastian allowed himself to have.

They were idle, pleasant little things. Like Miss Vivian falling down a set of stairs by 'accident' and breaking her neck. Or Miss Vivian finding herself in the jaws of Pluto, broken and bleeding and screaming as she is swallowed. Or Miss Vivian, asleep in her bed, neck bare as his hand wrapped around the column of her throat. Squeezing, her pale blue eyes would open wide in horror as she saw him looming above her, reflecting the red pleasure in his as her wild writhing brought him closer. Closer until his lips were brought to the jumping pulse in her neck, tasting the fear that throbbed within the vein. Teeth bared, he would drain her, mark her, delighting in the cries and pleas for more coming from the woman trapped beneath him, until–

 _That will be enough of that, if you please._ Sebastian growled to himself.

The intrusive thoughts and instincts were locked away, ever as stubborn as they had become of late. This would never do. Something needed to be done. Either Sebastian must gain control of his instincts once again, or Miss Vivian would indeed meet with an 'accident'. Preferably the one involving the staircase.

Needing true relief, Sebastian decided it to was time to seek out _her_.

 _Yes, she will be able to comfort me. For only she is the calm in the storm of my life. Her flexible body, her flowing black hair, her strong-willed, sparkling amber eyes! Yes, she will offer me peace…_

Sebastian ran, a flash of black, outside. Often at this time of say, he would find her in the gardens peacefully sunning herself. He could already see her, her body warmed from the sun, eyes glistening in the pleasure at seeing him…ah, such a vision!

In his search for her, Sebastian came across something else, however. Coming to the back courtyard where he expected to see her, Sebastian instead found Pluto. He was sleeping by a staircase that lead to the hedgerows, curled up and snoring away.

"They couldn't handle one simple task." Sebastian massaged his temple in an attempt to relieve a sudden headache, "I'm beginning to think those three would be more useful as dog food."

Just when all looked it's darkest, suddenly Sebastian could hear _her_.

"Meow!" The black feline mewled in greeting as she walked by. A smile slid onto the demon's face.

"How lovely." He cooed. Within a matter of seconds, Sebastian possessed her, coaxing her into his lap as he sat against the stone railing. She mewled again as he picked her up, laying her down on his lap so that her belly was exposed to him.

"Lithe, supple body. Pert paws. Such soft paws." The feline purred in delight at the praise and affection, and Sebastian could feel the tension of his headache lessen.

"Cats are perfect." He sighed happily.

The moment of bliss was short lived as Pluto, jealous of the attention, transformed into a human. Naked, he ran up to Sebastian. The poor feline was yanked away, and Pluto pressed himself against Sebastian's chest in demand for the same attention showed to _her_. With a yowl, the feline retreated, and with her the last contentment Sebastian had.

"Interrupted again." He sighed, "Can a butler get no peace around here?"

"Oh my."

Turning his head, Sebastian was surprised to see Miss Vivian standing at the bottom of the stairs. In her hands were some papers, and tucked behind one ear was a fountain pen.

"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?" She smirked at Sebastian's obvious discomfort. At the sound of her voice, Pluto looked her way, immediately cowering. Of all of the Phantomhive staff, Pluto only feared Miss Vivian. Even though Sebastian did far more damage to the hound than she, mysteriously he had gained the beast's affection, and she its apprehension.

Taking advantage of Pluto's inattention, Sebastian quickly muzzled and leashed him before he had time to wriggle away.

"Of course not, Miss Vivian. Is there something you needed from me?" Smiled Sebastian as he stood. Pluto was already straining against the leash, but even as he transformed back into his true form, the butler was hardly budged.

"No." Miss Vivian replied, still smirking, "I thought I might sit in the garden while I prepared my notes."

"How wise. The fresh air would do your pallor good. You are still looking rather ghastly."

Here at last Miss Vivian's smirk fell away. She turned to move away from him then, but then she stopped.

"By the way…are the other servants following you too?" She asked, glancing back over her shoulder. Sebastian, masterfully, feigned ignorance.

"Why, whatever do you mean, Miss Vivian?"

Miss Vivian frowned at him, almost as if she knew he was lying, but then she shook her head.

"Never mind. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Quite." The demon smiled before bowing, "However, the journalist will be arriving soon, and you will be expected in the dining room. Do not be late. Until then, please, enjoy the gardens."

Miss Vivian said nothing in reply as she walked away, carrying her scent with her. Her retreating form had his instincts eagerly hoping it was time to give chase, and Sebastian clenched a fist to quell them. They fought against him, tempting him with the promise of relief if only he gave in, but in the end, he won. He had tamed his hunger over the centuries, leaving behind the wild, unrestrained, feasts of his youth to the more select courses of souls now. It would be the same with these instincts, it would simply be a matter of time and will.

After all, she was not his mate. One that wasn't truly worthy of him, at any rate. In time his refusal to claim her would result in his instincts diminishing, and when her year of service was finished, she would only be as a bad memory for the demon. His instincts may howl all they wished until then, but like his hunger, they would come to see quality beat out convenience every time.

Glancing at his side and still seeing the hell hound struggle against the leash, Sebastian sighed and decided to deal with Pluto.

* * *

Vivian heard a faint 'click' and woke with a start. At first, she did not recognize where she was. Trees and shrubs surrounded the bench where she sat on all sides, and quickly her mind reasoned that she must have fallen asleep in the Phantomhive garden. Glancing down at her lap she saw the scribbled notes she had been working on since morning, and with a panic sat up.

"Oh, God! The interview!"

Running as fast as her healing body could carry her, Vivian prayed she had not overslept the interview. She did not think herself to be so exhausted to fall asleep out in the open like that, but her body must still be a long way from recovery than she had hoped. Still, none of that mattered as much as the interview. If she failed it, then she would never hear the end of it from Sebastian. Worse, the young Earl might just fire her and keep the five hundred pounds he promised her all to himself.

Vivian found herself moving faster then, practically sprinting through the main doors of the manor and up the stairs. Her heart sunk when she believed she took a wrong turn, but as she rounded a corner, Vivian had to stop.

There, in the middle of the hallway, was a young woman.

She appeared to Oriental in feature, and she was wearing a short silken dress and high stockings that had Vivian staring in shock. Was this the journalist the demon mentioned? It couldn't possibly be. But Vivian, not willing to risk it, approached the young woman with a smile.

"Excuse me, miss? Are you lost?"

At the sound of her voice, the young woman turned towards Vivian. Her expression was completely blank, and Vivian wondered how a pair of eyes could be so empty.

"Are you here to see the Earl Phantomhive?" Vivian continued, "If you please, I will take you to his office. If you could follow me, then…um, what are you doing?"

The woman, still empty of emotion, was now on her hands and knees and crawling towards Vivian. Before she had time to react, the woman had grasped the hem of Vivian's dress and yanked it up. Startled, Vivian tried to kick the woman away, but her knees buckled at the attempt. Landing backward, Vivian gaped in horror as the woman continued to lift up her dress.

 _What the Hell is going on?! Is this woman forcing herself on me?!_ Vivian's thoughts screamed in panic. Woman or no, Vivian was never one to hold back in a fight. She was prepared to kick the woman across the hall when a stranger's voice called out.

"Now, now, Ran-Mao. This is not the way we introduce ourselves to the Earl's guests."

Vivian craned her neck to look back, gaining an upside-down view of a tall man with short black hair. His eyes were half-lidded as if he was too lazy to open them up all the way. His voice was calm and teasing as if he had the best of jokes to tell.

"Ran-Mao, apologize to the pretty lady."

The woman, Ran-Mao, stood. Vivian watched cautiously as she bowed deeply.

"Sorry." Came her quiet, detached apology.

Vivian felt a red heat paint her cheeks, and caught between mortification and anger, she stood up.

"Sorry? _Sorry?!_ Why on Earth did you assault me?! What's more, who are you and why should I not scream and have you both thrown out?!" She shouted, watching as Ran-Mao went to the man's side. Clinging to each other in an improper manner, Vivian watched in horror as the man ran a hand over the woman's exposed thigh.

"Pardon, dear miss secretary. Ran-Mao was merely curious if…ah, how do the English put it?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Ah! If the carpet matched the drapes!"

Here he winked at Vivian, and her already red face blushed a deeper shade.

"How dare you!" She fumed, ready to slap the man's smirk off his face.

"Miss Vivian? What on the blazes is going on?"

Turning, Vivian could see the young Earl, accompanied by Mey-Rin, Baldroy, and Finni, approaching. Baldroy had a camera in his hands, the very same one Vivian had delivered to the Earl just this morning.

"This man and this woman-! He-! She-! They-!" Vivian struggled to get out her accusations but found them lodged in her throat. There was no way she could repeat what the man said to a child, even if it was the Earl Phantomhive, and she was still confused by what Ran-Mao had attempted. Still, the young Earl seemed to sense what had happened and glared at the stranger.

"Lau, I do not know what you did, but I believe you owe Miss Vivian an apology."

"Ah, Miss Vivian is it?" The man, Lau, smiled, "Then I shall do so young lord, but better! I shall give an introduction."

Lau approached closer to Vivian, bowing with his hands before clasped before him.

"I am Lau, a friend of the Lord's and the British Branch Manager of the Shanghai Trading Company, Kunlun. And I deeply apologize on my sister's behalf."

"Sister?" Vivian muttered in horror. By the manner they had been clinging to one another, she never would have assumed the two of them to be related!

" _Sister-in-law_ ," The Earl explained as she came to stand beside Vivian, "They are here helping me with a little chore. Often times, Lau invites himself into my home, so do be on the alert."

Vivian nodded in understanding but found this news to be greatly disturbing.

 _And here I thought the demon would be my only problem…_

"What little chore?" She asked. The young Earl frowned, hesitant to answer, but Lau laughed heartily.

"Oh, do tell her, my lord. Perhaps she can help?"

The young Earl did not look any more pleased, but from behind them, Vivian could hear Baldroy pip up.

"Yeah! It'd be great to have another pair of hands to help! Besides, we already got her picture!"

"My what?" Vivian frowned.

"It is nothing." The Earl quickly brushed off, "But yes, perhaps you can help."

Vivian could not help but find all of this very suspicious. However, she had promised to serve loyally and without question. With a little hesitation, she curtseyed.

"In any way I can, my lord."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"This is not what I had in mind when I agreed to help," Vivian muttered as she climbed the ladder.

"But you did agree." The Earl countered. Vivian bit back a sigh of frustration.

"Yes, I suppose. But I don't see how _this_ is helping." Vivian stressed. By _this_ , she meant her perched upon a ladder that leaned against a tall bookshelf. She, the Earl, and the others were now gathered in the library. Lau had ordered her to climb it, saying it would fit in with his plan to capture the butler's photograph. The Earl had offered a brief, if vague, explanation why he wanted this done, but Vivian could hazard a guess. She had remembered what she had heard about the Talbot camera, and no doubt the Earl sought to use its power against the demon.

 _While I don't mind that in the slightest, I do worry what Baldroy meant by already having **my** picture._

That was a worry for another time, as Lau suddenly cheered.

"Oh, this will most certainly help. I cannot understand how Sebastian failed to stop for Ran-Mao, but you, for he must!"

"What? Don't tell me we're doing _that_ again, are we?" The Earl groaned, losing faith in Lau's plan. Vivian was left utterly confused.

"Doing what?"

"But Sebastian hates her!" The Earl pressed, ignoring Vivian though she could see the child starting to blush. Lau simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Then we shall try something else. Though he might not like her, no honorable man can resist a damsel in distress."

"But…I'm not?" Vivian asked, slowly coming to realize how high she was up on the ladder. She wondered if she might have made a huge mistake when she suddenly felt the ladder give out beneath her. In a panic, Vivian clung to the first thing she could reach as it fell away. With dear life, she held onto the highest shelf, dangling helplessly.

"What in damnation are you doing?!" She shouted as she tried to steady herself, scant inches of shelf affording her grip. Normally, she wouldn't think twice of falling the six feet it was back to the ground, but with her ankle still sore and her side still healing, she couldn't risk it.

From below, Vivian could see Lau smile up at her.

"That's it, keep shouting for help. I'm sure he will come! And when he does, give him time to look up your skirt."

"Damn you! I'll kill you, you perverted miscreant!"

Lau hardly looked affected by her insults, ushering the blushing Earl and the others towards the shelves opposite.

"Hurry now, we must hide before he comes."

"Don't you dare! Get me down from here, now!"

No one answered Vivian's cries. Moving quickly, Lau slid out a book and the shelves parted. A small hideaway was revealed, which the others stuffed themselves into before the shelves slid back into place. Vivian, while intrigued at the secret refuge, still could not believe what was happening.

 _Curse that Lau! Five minutes I've known him and he's already on par with the demon!_

Vivian's knuckles were white with effort. Usually, it was no strain to pull herself up, but for some reason, Vivian could already feel her arms beginning to give out. It was irksome to be so weak all the time, but especially now! If she survived this, she would throw holy water on Lau, just to make certain he wasn't a devil in disguise!

"Damn him, damn his sister! Damn this whole household! No amount of money is worth this!" Vivian cursed under her breath.

"Miss Vivian?"

Vivian nearly lost her grip as she jolted at Sebastian's voice. Glancing down, she could see him below, brows quirked in irritation.

"I believe I told you not to be late to the interview with the journalist. You have kept us all waiting for several minutes now, and I must say I am extremely disappointed in you." The demon harshly chastised, but something in his eyes gleamed in delight over her struggle.

"Y-yes, I apologize. I've been…detained, as you can see." Vivian explained helplessly, "I...uh, remembered there was a book here that I wanted, and I thought I had time to grab it. It was just out of reach, and, well…"

The amusement in the demon's eyes lessened as he glanced over her, her arms pathetically shaking from the effort to hold herself up.

"Honestly, you are far more trouble than you are worth. I don't know what is so promising about you." He muttered to himself. Vivian didn't have time to process what he meant before she felt his hands reaching up to grasp her hips.

"What are you doing?! Let go!" She shouted, thrashing to keep him away. Vivian didn't care if she had been instructed to keep Sebastian still for a full ten seconds. Her day had been humiliating enough without having the demon come to her rescue!

"Stop struggling unless you want to injure yourself again." The demon warned exasperatingly. Without ceremony, Vivian felt the demon grip at her hips and lift her away from the shelf. He stepped back from it, and without a word, lowered her gently to the floor. The movement was so fluid and sure, Vivian wondered if she weighed anything to the demon.

"There now, safe and sound," Sebastian smirked as Vivian turned around to face him.

"Hardly." She growled up at him. Sebastian was unfazed as he began to leave.

"Come, we are late."

"But…" Vivian glanced back at the shelves the others were hiding behind. While she might not enjoy becoming a part of the Earl's game, she was ordered to try and keep Sebastian still.

"What is it?" The demon paused with a frown, "Oh, your book. Of course."

Vivian turned to watch Sebastian reaching towards the shelf Vivian had previously been clinging to. He grabbed the leather spine of the closest book.

"This one, yes?"

Vivian absently nodded, hoping he would remain still afterward. For a time, he did after he pulled the book down and curiously looked at it, but then Vivian worried when she saw a vicious smirk grow on his lips.

" _The Lustful Turk_? My, my, who would have known?" He asked wickedly, and Vivian's eyes widened in horror as she confirmed that was indeed the title. The whole of her suddenly became red, and she felt certain she was going to faint of embarrassment. Rather than give the demon the satisfaction, she snatched the book from Sebastian's hands and stormed out of the library. He followed after her, the sound of his quiet chuckle tormenting her further.

 _God, please, strike me now and end my misery!_

* * *

The lengthy dining room was stifled with silence apart from the sound of the journalist writing his notes. Sebastian stood by the gentleman, observing the other end of the table. Tanaka was smiling friendlily, a cup of green tea steaming in his hands. He was starting to shake, but the old man held on remarkably well so far, answering all of the journalist's questions with well-informed and easy answers when the interview started forty minutes ago. In time, however, Miss Vivian, who sat beside him, took over when it appeared Tanaka was beginning to strain himself. She, remarkably, was even more knowledgeable.

"To answer your question," Miss Vivian spoke cordially, "the icons of the Funtom Corporation represent the different lines and products that we sell. We find that having icons makes the product, as well as the whole of the line, more memorable to our customers. After all, most of our customers are children, and they are more likely to remember the Bitter Rabbit or Confectionery Cat then they are the Funtom name. Names mean nothing to a child, but by giving our products of a personality, if you will, we become unforgettable."

"Ah!" Smiled the journalist as he copied her words down in his notes, "Most excellent Miss! Our readers would love to hear this!"

Miss Vivian smiled demurely at his praise, and Sebastian could not tell if she was flattered or simply pretending to be so. Either way he did not like it. She had put up such as poised mask upon entering the room, completely opposite of how she was a few moments before. Sebastian nearly smirked at the memory of it.

 _Honestly, I never imagined the young master would pull Miss Vivian into his scheme, much less that she would agree to it._

Either way, it hardly mattered as it seemed Miss Vivian was now playing the same as the others whether she wanted to or not. She was most certainly put up to it, as the Huntress would never in a thousand years put herself into such a position. Dangling herself in the library like some worm on a hook for him. Sebastian took the bait, of course, but only to hurry Miss Vivian to the interview. They were behind schedule already what with Ran-Mao's attempt to seduce Sebastian into remaining still. When or why Lau and his personal assassin joined in the Earl's game, Sebastian couldn't be sure, but the demon could hear them all now, sulking outside of the Earl's office. The young master, no doubt, was planning his next move.

 _I wonder just what that might be…could he become so desperate as to…? Ah, yes,_ Sebastian smirked to himself when he figured out the boy's plan, _yes he would attempt that, wouldn't he?_

"And now, could you please tell me about Funtom's business strategy moving forward?" The journalist continued, drawing Sebastian's attention back to the matter at hand.

"Ho…ho…" Tanaka struggled to say, surprising the journalist. It would seem his strength was finally failing, and he was in danger of deflating at any moment. Miss Vivian too looked worried, and so Sebastian stepped in.

"Allow me to explain. Currently, we are focusing on toys and confections, but we plan to expand into other areas as well."

The journalist eagerly wrote down everything Sebastian said but jolted to a stop when a loud 'pop!' at the other end of the table signaled the real Tanaka had at last run out of energy. Miss Vivian gasped in alarm when the man suddenly shrank, and she looked at a loss as what to do. The journalist was glancing over, and they were all in danger of embarrassing the Funtom Cooperation if something was not done and done quickly!

Sebastian slammed his hands down upon the table.

"As I was saying, sir."

"Oh, yes?" The journalist looked back over towards the butler.

"The corporation is working on plans to build outlets across Europe. We'll begin with branches in Paris, Vienna, Berlin, Rome, Amsterdam, and Athens. We intend to expand to into thirty countries in the next five years, including those in North America." Sebastian pressed on quickly, and the journalist was suddenly in a panic to write down everything.

"Ho, ho." Chimed in Tanaka, still trying his best to help.

"We'll also build a confections factory in Provence in the south of France and a toy factory in Salzburg, Austria. This will ensure goods in supply for the years to come." Sebastian said louder, arms gesturing dramatically.

"Ho, ho!"

"Yes," Suddenly spoke Miss Vivian, catching on with more enthusiasm than Sebastian suspected her capable of, "We at the Funtom Corporation always strive to maintain and improve the quality and goods of services supplied to our customers. No item leaves one of our factories without first being subjected to numerous quality assurance tests! Only then can a product bare the name, Funtom!"

She came over to stand beside Sebastian, fully distracting the journalist from the deflated Tanaka. With panache, Sebastian flung his arms open wide in a flourish.

"Our motto is the customer always comes first! Our delivery system ensures to arrive at your business or residence, product in hand, in record time, however remote the location! Customer is satisfaction guaranteed! _That_ is the Funtom Corporation's' way! See?" Sebastian finished with a wink.

The poor journalist was still scribbling, looking ready to faint as sweat gathered at his brow. Miss Vivian stepped in closer, smiling gently.

"Mr. Jones? If you would like, you may take my notes for this interview with you." She offered, and the journalist looked up at her as if she was an angel.

"Oh, thank you very much miss!"

"It is nothing. It is the very least I can do to make up for my lateness. Please."

The young man took the bundle of papers from Miss Vivian happily before he looked towards Sebastian.

"This was more than I could have ever hoped for. But before I go, I would like to get a photograph if I may."

Sebastian frowned as the journalist took out a camera from his case and pointed it in Tanaka's direction.

"A photo?"

"I would like to have you in the shot too." The journalist asked Sebastian, though he also glanced at Miss Vivian.

"I'm afraid I must decline," Sebastian apologized quickly, "You see, I'm simply one hell of a butler."

From the corner of his eyes, Sebastian could see Miss Vivian stiffen. Perhaps she was surprised by his decline? If anything he would think her relieved since it wouldn't be wise to risk having one of the members of the Order of the Hunt recognize her in the paper.

"Oh." The journalist withered in disappointment.

Within moments, Sebastian and Miss Vivian had escorted the gentleman back to his carriage. Tanaka had escaped in the meanwhile, but Sebastian hardly paid attention when the steward left. Something was off about Miss Vivian. She seemed still in shock, moving stiffly as if it hurt to breathe. Had her side re-opened?

"That went rather well, don't you think, Miss Vivian?" Sebastian asked as the journalist's carriage retreated down the lane. His voice seemed to break what little strength there was left in the Huntress as she suddenly doubled over. She was shaking almost violently.

"Miss Vivian? Are you ill?" The demon asked, but before his instincts could rise up in response, he heard a strange sound come out of the woman.

It was laughter. Mad, full, enchanting laughter.

"One…hell…of a butler! You can't be serious!" She struggled to say between breaths. Sebastian did not know what she was speaking of for a moment but then frowned. So, she had caught that, didn't she? Sebastian did not know if he enjoyed someone else appreciating his wordplay, as most certainly Miss Vivian would never let him live it down.

"You told me you wanted me to refrain calling you a demon in public," Miss Vivian still struggled to speak, but she straightened up to smile at Sebastian, "but if you're making puns like that, what's even the point?"

"Well, we all must have our amusements." Sebastian countered dryly as he noted the crinkles around her eyes. Her smile was true then. He had not seen this expression of hers before, and could not help but get a sense of foreboding when his instincts squirmed at the sight of it.

* * *

Ciel stood by the window, watching as the last rays of the sun dipped down. It was still early evening, but winter brought darkness all too quickly. It suited for his purposes however. Under the cover of dark, Ciel caught the movement of three large shapes being moved in the yard below. Lau and the others were making the last preparations then.

Ciel wondered if, perhaps, this time he took the game too far.

It had been embarrassing enough watching Ran-Mao's display, but it was so much worse when Miss Vivian ended up getting involved. Ciel should have suspected what Lau had in mind when he suggested Miss Vivian could help, and he wondered if Miss Vivian might have now sworn to end the Branch Manager the same as she had all demons. Not that Ciel could blame her. She had been shaking with rage and embarrassment when she and Sebastian left the library, and yet, when the two of them returned to report what happened at the interview, she had changed. Miss Vivian looked…happy somehow. It suited her, though he could not begin to imagine what brought about this change.

During the past week with Miss Vivian, Ciel found himself already adjusted to her presence, but Miss Vivian looked far from pleased with her new surroundings until today. She worked hard and was polite, of course, but she avoided him and Sebastian whenever she could. While Ciel did not mind so much, he did when it meant his curiosity could not be satisfied. Namely in regards to her and his butler, Sebastian.

She provoked his demon butler in a way Ciel could not name. It hardly escaped Ciel that the butler was the one responsible for affecting the air about the manor, corrupting it in some way and making it hard to relax. Ciel wondered if this was what the butler's demonic presence, as Sebastian called it, felt like. He did not enjoy it. Moreover, he did not like being left in the dark.

 _Something is going on between them. Something more than hatred, more than aversion. And I would know,_ Ciel determined. That was what this game was about, after all. Though he did not think it would offer any definite answer, it would perhaps stir something up in all the chaos. It was a means to an end, even if Ciel found himself enjoying it, as he did any game he played. Besides, he had already won something out of it already.

 _Yes, Miss Vivian's picture revealed some interesting truths_ , Ciel thought, turning to glance at the photograph itself still on his desk. It had been developed earlier while he and the other servants waited for the meeting with the journalist to end. Ciel himself wasn't certain what the photograph meant exactly, but he had some suspicion about just who Miss Vivian cared for most in this world...

 _Now, if only get a hold of Sebastian's picture. Then, I am sure, I will be closer to solving the reason behind–_

"My lord?"

Ciel turned to see Miss Vivian enter his office.

"Lau said that he and the others were ready, whatever that means." She informed him, looking perturbed. Ciel wondered if Lau did something to yet again upset Miss Vivian. Not that it was difficult to. For a woman with so many secrets, she was far to easy to provoke.

"I understand." Ciel nodded, and Miss Vivian curtseyed to take her leave. She stilled however when Ciel continued.

"I am sorry for the commotion today, Miss Vivian. But I must say, I am impressed."

"With what exactly?"

"How you handled yourself at the interview. Sebastian told me you did well, and he is very hard to please."

Ciel carefully watched as Miss Vivian's mouth opened in surprise.

"Oh? I did not think him capable of compliments." She replied, the hatred she felt towards the demon obvious. Ciel narrowed his eyes. Miss Vivian was too convincing in her loathing to be acting it. She was a terrible liar after all.

 _If that's the case, then why–?_

"If I may ask, how might _you_ rate my work so far, my lord?"

Ciel was pulled out of his thoughts to see Miss Vivian eagerly awaiting his answer. He supposed she thought the interview to be a test of her abilities and was now seeking her evaluation. Ciel had to admit, he had not been certain what to expect of Miss Vivian becoming his secretary, but she had surpassed his expectations even while she was still recovering from her injuries. He wondered just what she might be capable when she had her strength back.

"For one recovering from death and a scuffle with a demon hound, you have so far proved your usefulness. However, once you are fully recovered, I should expect your tasks to double. Do you think you can handle that?" He asked her with a smirk. Miss Vivian, mirroring his challenge, smirked back.

"For five hundred pounds I certainly would be. I'd even give Pluto a bath."

Ciel chuckled quietly as he turned from her and glanced outside the window once more. Seeing Lau in position, Ciel decided the time to act was now.

"It's almost time. Let's go."

.

.

.

Mere moments found Ciel in the garden, Finni standing not far behind him with the headless statue over his head.

"You sure this is okay?"

"Yes," Ciel answered curtly. The evening was colder than he expected and he wanted this to be over with as quickly as possible.

"I don't know…" Finni hesitated.

"Do it Finni!"

"Right!" Finni snapped into action. Without thought he spun the statue around and around, gaining momentum, until he released it into the air. It took off like a shooting star, twinkling in the distance before it slowly made its descent. Finni crouched, waiting for a terrible impact. Ciel remain unmoved, glancing to make certain everyone was in position. Mey-Rin and Baldroy behind the bushes with the camera, Ran-Mao and Lau ready to light the fireworks, and Miss Vivian standing by. She really served no purpose being so close, but Ciel wondered what might happen if he put her at risk for being injured as well.

 _Speaking of…_

The statue was nearly finished in its descent, and right in its path was Ciel. Seconds until impact, it seemed Finni could not handle the risk posed to his master.

"Look out sir!" He shouted, running with all his might towards Ciel. Perhaps he could have rescued the boy, perhaps not. Before anyone could see which would happen, a cloud of dust, an explosion of marble, and rain of dirt shrouded them.

Ciel felt rather than saw Sebastian come between him and the statue, as to be expected. What Ciel did not expect, or appreciate for that matter, was being pinned to the ground underneath the demon. As the dust settled, Ciel turned to glare up at his rescuer. Sebastian's look was far from amused, and Ciel watched as the stone wings crumpled off of the butler's back. Sebastian then moved to lift Ciel up from the ground, inspecting him for injury, when a shower of sparks stilled them both.

Pouring out of three dragon's mouths was golden sparks, lighting up the whole garden, and Ran-Mao and Lau stepped out from their hiding place.

"What a charming picture the two of you make," Lau smirked, pleased with his work. At the mention of the picture, Ciel saw Sebastian prepare to stand the two of them up, possibly to ruin it. Needing him to remain still for a little longer, Ciel tried to think how to keep the butler remaining where he was for a little longer.

Surprisingly, aid came in the form of Finni.

"Wah! Miss Vivian!"

Ciel and Sebastian glanced over at where Sebastian had tossed the gardener aside when he came to the rescue. The boy looked a little dazed but otherwise fine, but the woman who had broken his fall did not.

"I'm quite alright Finni, really." She grinned as she tried to sit up. Her dress was smeared in dirt, and it seemed her side was aching badly by the way she held it. When Ciel noticed the trickle of blood traveling down her face, he secretly glanced at the butler. Something flashed in the demon's eyes as he looked towards Miss Vivian, and Ciel meant to study it.

"Ahh! Miss Vivian, you're bleeding!" Whined Finni, pulling his hair in guilt. Miss Vivian reached up to feel her face and, sure enough, she had a small gash on her forehead. It was probably induced when she fell backward onto the ground, but she merely shrugged.

"Again, I'm alright. What about you Finni?" She asked as the boy helped her up to her feet.

"Ain't nothing wrong with me, but I'm so sorry!" The gardener bowed repeatedly to her, almost groveling, "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"Trust me, it wasn't your fault," Miss Vivian spoke kindly, but the glare she cast toward the butler as she said this made it clear she knew who was exactly to blame for her injury. Ciel too had been watching Sebastian, and honestly could not quite make sense of what expression he was seeing.

Surprise? Relief? Satisfaction? It wasn't something he was used to seeing on his butler, that was for sure. And he wasn't certain what to make of it.

 _And here, I was beginning to think…no, I must have been wrong then…_

 _"_ You're late." Ciel accused, bringing the demon's attention back onto him. Sebastian looked down at his master, taming his strange expression into one of wry amusement.

"My apologies sir. I was making dinner preparations. For the entrée this evening we will have Canard à la Rouennaise."

"That's nice." Ciel huffed as Sebastian helped him to sit up.

"You could have just told me to pose for a picture." Sebastian said pointedly.

"What?" Ciel flinched. Had his butler known the game all along? And here Ciel thought for once he might have an advantage on him, however fleeting.

"Had you ordered me to, I would have had no choice but to do so." The butler smirked, unable to help a brief chuckle. Ciel knew the demon to be delighting in his failure, but Ciel couldn't dwell long on his loss.

The palpable malice that had surrounded the demon had lessened, and the air around Sebastian, around the manor, felt somehow improved. Was the demon back in a good mood then? What happened then in these few moments to change that?

"I don't know what you mean." Ciel muttered as he glanced away from the demons' eyes. This game of his only brought up more questions than answers, and Ciel was not satisfied with it.

* * *

The screams of Mey-Rin, Finni, and Baldroy filled the manor. Sebastian paid the sound no heed, instead he waited in the hallway for the demon hound to return. Soon enough, Pluto was running towards him on all fours in his human form, tongue lolled to one side happily.

"Arf! Arf!" Yipped the beast cheerfully, coming to a halt before Sebastian's feet. He sat on command, and Sebastian kneeled down to stroke Pluto's head.

"Good." Sebastian praised, reaching into his pocket for a treat. Pluto eagerly snatched it and immediately gnawed at his reward as Sebastian stood himself back up to his full height.

"My lord has outdone himself. That was an elaborate piece of mischief concocted…" Sebastian muttered to himself. At least he was able to thwart what he hoped to be the young master's last attempt at taking his photograph. It was a desperate attempt, to be sure, but Sebastian had earlier wagered that his master would place himself in danger simply to win his little game. The fireworks come as a surprise to Sebastian, but with Pluto's aid, Sebastian ensured the scheme ended in failure with the destruction of the photograph.

Turning, Sebastian walked away from the snacking demon hound.

"You do know you are sleeping outside," Sebastian informed him pointedly, and Pluto let out a miserable whine.

Sebastian made his way back into the kitchen to clean up the dinner he had just served. It was getting late, and despite the many distractions that had occurred, a butler still had many duties. As he moved down the hallway, Sebastian wondered at the stillness of the shadows. But of course they were still, as they were meant to be. Now that Sebastian had nothing to worry over, it would seem his demonic presence had withdrawn itself, allowing the manor to settle back into its usual harmony. It was a bliss Sebastian did not think he would be enjoying so soon.

 _And such bliss. Who would have thought a small gash would bring me so much pleasure? Ah, well, they do say it is the little things in life,_ Sebastian smirked to himself. _And to think, I had almost been apprehensive…_

Until a few hours ago, it was true. Sebastian had been concerned.

With the game the master was playing, there was a risk of Sebastian's photograph revealing something…unpleasant. After all, if the Talbot camera truly did show what one cared for most in this world, well, it might have spelled trouble for Sebastian. It mattered not that Miss Vivian was, technically, alive, and therefore it would be impossible for her to appear in Sebastian's photograph. If there was one chance in a thousand, Sebastian would still not risk it.

Not to say that Sebastian cared for the Huntress, quite opposite in fact. But if his mistaken instincts took hold at the wrong moment, if his controlled slipped from his grasp for one second…then Sebastian would be in the terrible position of having to explain to his master why Miss Vivian could be seen in his photograph. Worse, Sebastian might have been forced to face the most dreadful of possibilities; that his instincts were, in fact, _not_ mistaken. That Miss Vivian was indeed his mate.

But the photograph was destroyed. Once more, Sebastian was now certain, dead or alive, Miss Vivian would not have appeared in the photograph.

Because his instincts were wrong.

In the moment when it came to rescuing his master, Sebastian threw Finnian aside without a thought. The boy could take it, but it didn't matter to the demon if he lived or not, not when his prey was in harm's way. And when the dust cleared, when Sebastian saw that Miss Vivian had been hurt, he could not have been any more relieved.

He had hurt her. He had caused her to bleed. It did not matter that it was unintentional, Sebastian was still at fault. By throwing aside Finni, the boy had landed on Miss Vivian, and because of that Miss Vivian had gotten hurt as she fell.

And Sebastian felt nothing. His instincts were howling, yes, but they howled to protect the master Sebastian served. For Miss Vivian, there was no such feeling, not even when the blood ran down her cheek. If she was his true mate, then he should have felt something akin to grief to have caused her harm. He had almost expected it, like a creeping poison taking hold of him, terrible and burning.

But he felt nothing. And it was bliss.

Whether he was gaining mastery over his instincts, or, more likely, Miss Vivian was not his true mate, hardly mattered to Sebastian. In time, he knew there would remain nothing between him and Miss Vivian but hate and a mutual desire to destroy one another. And when her year of service with the Earl was finished, Sebastian would succumb to that desire and have her pay dearly for making him think even for a moment she was worthy of being his.

He would hunt down in his true form, just as he had when he first killed her. She would run, cry, beg, oh yes. He would have her beg. He would bring her that low. He would tear into her, slowly, and piece by piece he would rip her apart. Perhaps he would leave her on the verge of death, allowing her to heal, only to test how far the demon hearts she ate would save her. Over and over again, he would bring her to the brink of release, only to deny her and have her suffer in the cruelest of ways. And when she finally begged, when those lazuline eyes were filled with tears and suffering, only then would he finally kill her…

Somewhere in the manor, the hour struck ten, and Sebastian realized it was time for his master to sleep.

"Excuse me lord," He announced as he entered the Earl's office, "We should prepare you for bed."

The office was dark, and Sebastian was surprised to see the young Earl asleep in his chair. His chin rest on his hand, his chest rising and falling slowly in deep slumber.

"Falling asleep slumped at your desk chair? How irresponsible of you." Sebastian chided the sleeping boy as he shut the door behind him and drew closer. He had half a mind of leaving the boy there as punishment for his silly game today, but the Talbot camera on the desk had Sebastian pausing. For such a small thing, it certainly caused this demon a lot of trouble.

"How typically, I suppose. Once again, you have given me unnecessary work."

Picking up the camera, Sebastian had inspiration for revenge. Something had stuck to the bottom of the camera, and Sebastian watched a photograph fall to the floor. There were many blurred pictures scattered about the boy's desk, so naturally, Sebastian assumed it was one of the many failed attempts to photograph him. When he knelt down to put it back however, Sebastian froze.

It was Miss Vivian.

She was in the garden, sitting on a stone bench with notes in her hand that she had appeared to have been working on. She was asleep however, leaning back against the bark of the tree nearby, eyes closed in exhaustion. It must have been a heavy spell, as she obviously did not know she had been discovered. Miss Vivian looked perfectly at ease, her body completely relaxed, her hair carelessly escaping from the ribbon she had attempted to tame it with.

Sebastian was surprised to see this, to say the least. It seemed the other servants did not completely fail their master. But Sebastian wondered if it had been with the Talbot camera. After all there, was no one in the photograph with Miss Vivian. She was alone.

 _Perhaps there is no one she values in life or death._ Sebastian smirked, _Alone and helpless as always…_

Sebastian stilled.

There was _someone_ in the picture, not far from where Miss Vivian sat, though they were somewhat obscured by the shadow of the tree they hid behind. The being was tall and seemed to be more of a black shape than anything really human that was barely noticeable unless one knew what they were looking. And where eyes should be, two hollows that seemed to be glowing stared back at Sebastian instead. Though the photograph was in black and white, he knew those hollows were red. As red as blood.

Sebastian crushed the photography in his hand, crumpling it before he pocketed it. He would destroy it later when he had the chance, and reflect on its implication never. Standing, a cold grin broke as he held the Talbot camera before him and pointed it at the sleeping Earl.

"Smile, young master."

* * *

Well darlings, how was that? For a little side note, _Goethe's Faust_ , _The Woman in White_ , and _The Goblin Market and Other Poems_ were written back in the 1800s, and are considered classic gothic works that I really enjoyed myself. _The Lustful Turk_ on the other hand was written in 1828, and is about two English girls who get captured and sold to a man named Ali and become his sex slaves for a few years until he ends up getting his…uh, _bit_ cut off and he sends them home with it in a jar as a gift. So, yeah, you guys learned something, and remember the next time your read a really bad fanfiction be grateful that at least it isn't _The Lustful Turk_!

Join Vivian and Sebastian next time as they accompany the young master to the Frost Fair. When a cursed ring shows up that everyone has their eye on, Vivian knows there will be trouble. Little does she guess though that someone has their eye on her as well…and it's not Drossel or his master…


End file.
